Clash of Earls
by fireman23
Summary: After the purple wedding, littlefinger brings Sansa to a secluded place where she will be safe from the Lannister's revenge. But is this the only danger for her?
1. The Arrival

_A/N This is set in Game of Thrones after the purple wedding. Sansa is rescued by littlefinger and brought to a safe place.  
_

 _Vikings fans should be able to guess where we stand in the Vikings timeline..._

 _Westerosi Language is the same as old English, for the sake of the story. Otherwise it would be too much time spent, learning all the languages from scratch.  
_

 _Rather short first chapter, just for the background setting. The others will likely be longer.  
_

 _Sansa is 15 years old at the time of the purple wedding in my approach to the story (I am not sure how old she actually was in the episode, but 15 will work here)._

 _To those who are not familiar with the books of 'A Song of Fire and Ice': The second book is titled 'A Clash of Kings'._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

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 **Chapter 1: The Arrival**

Sansa climbed down in the small boat. She had said goodbye to littlefinger earlier on the upper deck. Lord Petyr Baelish, littlefinger as he was called behind his back, had sent an agent to rescue her after the murder of King Joffrey Baratheon. Sansa would have been the main suspect. In reality, littlefinger had conspired with the newly wed queen's grandmother to kill the cruel monarch. He would take her to a safe place, littlefinger had promised. Obviously this was the place he had thought of.

Two of the ship's crew were in the small boat with her. They departed from the big ship and rowed towards the beach. Sansa was glad for the fog, nobody would be able to see where they landed. The two sailors pulled the boat in the sand and the small group disembarked.

A short walk inland they found a path which the three followed. After what seemed hours of walking to Sansa, the spotted a castle or maybe some houses on the hill in front of them. Sansa could not clearly identify it, in the middle of the night.

They headed towards the building, until their way was blocked by wooden gates. One of the sailors knocked and a young man, weary of sleep, opened a small window.

"Who are you?" the man asked.

"This is the guest Father Cuthbert has agreed to accommodate as favor to Lord Petyr Baelish." The sailor answered pointing at Sansa.

The gates were opened and Sansa walked forward.

"Good Luck Mylady. You will be safe here." The sailor greeted her.

Sansa took a deep breath and entered the gate. She found herself in a courtyard, surrounded by roughly stone-built houses. The man closed the gate and indicated Sansa to follow him.

"This here is our guest room where you will be staying", the man said indicating a poorly decorated room. It merely contained a bed, a small table and a chair. Sansa was stunned by the missing comfort of this place, but was too exhausted after this long night to care. She thanked the young man and fell into her bed, barely able to take her dress off.

Sansa awoke the next morning. Actually it was almost noon, not surprising since she had only gotten to sleep shortly before sunrise. She quickly dressed and braided her hair, when she was suddenly feeling hungry. Almost starved since her last meal had been about a day earlier. She hoped she looked presentable and left her room.

Just outside she encountered a man wearing a strange dark brown tunic.

"Excuse me, but can you tell me where I can find something to eat?" Sansa asked.

The man looked at her and answered, "I will bring you to Father Cuthbert. He will get you something to eat."

Sansa followed the man across the courtyard and took in more of the scenery. She was quartered in one of the smaller buildings, apparently the guest house. Next to the guest house there was a bigger house where most of the inhabitants of this place seemed to be. Then there was another big stone building, which also had a tower. The rest of the courtyard was seemed with different kinds of sheds and all the buildings were surrounded by a stone wall, as high as very tall men. The wall was not built of bricks but rather rocks as they could be found everywhere. They had been cemented together and the wall was topped of with even edgier rocks. It was about as tall as her father had been and he was one of the tallest people Sansa had ever seen.

The thought of her father was painful for Sansa, but so much bad had happened in the meantime that she mostly felt empty of any emotion. She had reached the conclusion that this place had to be some kind of castle. Well, the walls were unusual and there was only one tower, the keep probably, but it seemed like a castle. A small castle, but a castle nevertheless. Given that Sansa had only seen men of different ages around this place, all of them wearing their strange dark tunics, she decided these were probably the soldiers garrisoned in this castle. The absence of weapons did not puzzle her at all. After all, most of the soldiers in Winterfell rarely wore their weapons, most of the weapons were kept in the armoury.

Sansa was guided into the room where an older man was already waiting for her. He was wearing a similar dark tunic as all the others and was wearing a haircut similar to all the others. Sansa realized every one of these men had his hair strangely cut. They had their hair rather long and on the back of the head there was a circle where it was shaved completely. As belt they all wore white rope, with several knots in it.

"Good day, Sansa. Welcome", the old man said.

"Good day, Ser, are you the lord of this castle?" Sansa wanted to know.

"Castle? What castle are you talking about, my dear child?" he asked.

"This whole building. Walls, tower, sheds, and everyone inside seems to be a man of fighting age", Sansa replied, "To me that is a castle."

"You could not be more wrong", he answered, "This is a monastery. Lord Baelish sent you here because here you are safe from the Lannisters."

Sansa was puzzled, "If this is not a castle, how could I be safe from them. They could just get me."

"Don't be afraid, my child," he tried to calm her, "They will not even know you're here. And I believe it is time for lunch, don't you think?"

"Yes, I'm starving." Sansa enthused.

Father Cuthbert guided Sansa along the hallway until they entered the dining hall. He urged her to take a seat next to his own at the table at the front of the hall. The other men were sitting on tables throughout the room. They were silently eating, "remarkably poor food" Sansa thought, while one of the men was obviously tasked with entertainment. He was reading loudly from a book. To Sansa it seemed as if it was a religious text, but she could not quite grasp the fact that these men were apparently only honoring a single god. Neither the virgin, the old woman, the warrior nor any of the other gods was named in the lecture. Nor were the old gods mentioned, Sansa realized.

After they had finished eating, the men gathered in some kind of formation. Sansa could not help herself than to see the men as some kind of soldiers, although the old man had discarded this thought. The group marched towards the biggest building, the one with the tower. Her curiosity took over and Sansa carefully followed them. They entered it and Sansa could hear alternating speeches and singing from inside the house.

Nearly an hour later, Sansa watched as the procession of men left the building again. Since she had nothing to do she decided to follow them and find out some more about this place. The men walked slowly until they reached the building where they had started an hour ago. Sansa had labeled it a 'living house' for herself. Some went inside, the others dispersed outside. Some went to the sheds, others went to the garden, one went back to the building with the tower and most of them entered the long building which Sansa had not yet inspected.

Sansa carefully followed them. She had no clue whether she was allowed to enter the building but her curiosity got the better of her. She peeked around the corner. The men had gone inside but the door was slightly open. Sansa carefully walked nearer and took a glance through the door. The men were sitting on small tables, a candle standing next to everyone. They seemed to be working on some books, they were writing them! Suddenly this building made Sense to Sansa, it was a house for scribes.

Sansa turned around and decided she wanted to discover some more of this place. The assurance of Father Cuthbert, the Lannisters would not be able to get her here, had done a lot to minimize her fears, although Sansa still could not grasp why they would be able to find her at this strange place. Sansa walked towards the garden. She took a close look at the plants and realized all these growing here were herbs, mostly used by healers. Others were poisonous and some of the men were busy digging around in the garden.

Before Sansa expected it, the sunset began. After being puzzled for a minute, Sansa remembered she only awoke at noon, so the day only seemed unnaturally short to her. She made her way towards the dining room where she was met by Father Cuthbert. Dinner was ready, although in Sansa's opinion, the food was just as primitive as the lunch she had eaten before. It consisted mainly bread, cheese, butter, some nuts and fruits, and beer to drink. After they had eaten, the men gathered for another procession. Sansa instead chose to go to bed early, her head spinning of the unusual amount of beer she had drunk.

Sansa reached her room where she quickly undressed and then fell into her bed. Maybe because she had been asleep till noon, she could not sleep immediately. Her mind kept wandering around, thinking about her brother, her Sister Arya, her mother, even Tyrion had a place in her thoughts. Sansa hoped, Cersei did not kill him, after all, he was still the nicest one of the Lannisters.

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 _A/N: This was the first chapter, the others will be getting longer._

 _In the story, there will be a timeline jump of about 2 or 3 weeks forward. So Sansa will have gotten used to living in this place by then._

 _And don't forget to review!_


	2. Wrath of the Northmen

_A/N This is set in Game of Thrones after the purple wedding. Sansa is rescued by littlefinger and brought to a safe place.  
_

 _Vikings fans should be able to guess where we stand in the Vikings timeline..._

 _Westerosi Language is the same as old English, for the sake of the story. Otherwise it would be too much time spent, learning all the languages from scratch.  
_

 _Sansa is 15 years old at the time of the purple wedding in my approach to the story (I am not sure how old she actually was in the episode, but 15 will work here)._

 _To those who are not familiar with the books of 'A Song of Fire and Ice': The second book is titled 'A Clash of Kings'._

 _Here it is, the first appearance of the vikings..._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

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 **Chapter 2: Wrath of the Northmen  
**

Ragnar was wandering through the town of Kattegat. It was just getting light, the paths between the houses still in twilight. He was followed by his brother Rollo. Both men made sure nobody was following them.

Ragnar spotted the house he was heading to. He opened the door and found several men inside. He was greeted by his old friend Erik Maarten.

"Ragnar Lothbrok, welcome to my house." He greeted, "I have brought these young men here as you asked. All of them have sworn upon their armring to keep this meeting a secret."

"You have done well, my friend", Ragnar complimented him.

"Tell us why we are here", one of the gathered men urged.

"Well, you are here, firstly, because you have nothing better to do." Ragnar answered teasingly. A roar of protest ran through the group of men. They were interrupted by Rollo, who was sitting lazily in the corner, "Listen to him."

"We have built a new boat", Ragnar announced, "and with this boat we are able to go West."

"I have Ragnar's word that we all will be treated as equals and get an equal share of the plunder." Rollo explained.

"What if there is no West?" one of the men, Thorstein, wanted to know.

"I believe in the stories", Ragnar explained, "and we may have found a way."

"And the Earl could kill us for disobeying his orders." The man leaning to the pillar objected.

Ragnar approached him. "What is your name?" he asked.

"Knut." he answered.

"Well. I admit there is a risk", Ragnar said, "but we can offer you a chance to shine in battle, to impress the gods – and to bring back such plunder you have never seen before." He looked at the others, challenging. "Have you the balls to join us?" he asked.

After a few seconds of silence, the men all agreed. Ragnar reminded them to keep the meeting a secret, then they all went their separate ways.

Ragnar had arrived at his farm earlier the day. Now he was washing one of his tunics, while his wife Lagertha was looking angrily at him. "When do we sail?" she demanded to know.

"I already told you, I don't want you to come." Ragnar answered.

"Why not?" Lagertha asked, "This was going to be the most exciting voyage of our lives, to go west."

"And what if the Earl wants to claim our family's home? I have to leave the farm in the hands of someone I can trust." Ragnar answered.

"We have spoken of it for so many years." Lagertha objected.

"What if we both die?" Ragnar asked, "Who would look after the children? Rollo?"

Lagertha had to think about that for a while.

"Fine, you go", Ragnar suddenly gave in, "you go and I will stay here and look after the farm and the children."

Lagertha realized she had no more arguments left and left the room pouting.

Later in the evening, Ragnar was tired. And he was a little drunk. He decided it was time to go to bed, so he stood up and walked towards the bed. Suddenly he was hit in the face by a wooden shield. He stumbled back and fell to the floor. The metallic taste in his mouth told him he had bitten into his tongue when Lagertha's shield had hit his chin. He spit the blood into the fire pit and stood up.

"My love", he greeted her.

"What is the reason?" Lagertha yelled, "Am I not strong enough for you?"

She took a swing with her shield and Ragnar was barely able to evade. The next punch hit him right in his chest.

"I saved your life, don't you remember?" she asked. Ragnar was prepared for her next blow. This time his hands caught the shield. He pulled and Lagertha had no choice but to drop it. Her fists hammered all over Ragnar until he dropped the shield and caught her on a tight embrace, holding her against her bed.

"How could I forget?" he asked kissing her neck, "You keep reminding me."

Lagertha was about to give in to his embrace as her eyes caught a small hammer lying within her reach. She grabbed it and smashed it on Ragnar's head. He tumbled backwards and Lagertha starting raining fists all over his body again.

"Stop it!" they were interrupted, "You could have killed yourselves."

Their son Bjorn was standing next to them, looking at them both accusingly.

"We were just having an argument", Ragnar tried to calm him.

"Well, never argue like that ever again!" Bjorn ordered, before he turned around and left. Ragnar and Lagertha looked at each other stunned. For a second the silence was getting uncomfortable, then they both started to laugh.

The day to set sail had finally come. Ragnar kissed his wife, and then his children goodbye. He then went on his way to Floki's shipyard, where the new boat was drifting tied to the pier. Some of the crew had already arrived. They were loading oars, barrels of ale, food supplies, everything they would need on their journey.

Floki the shipbuilder was supervising their activities. Ragnar decided to play his old friend a little prank. He pulled his knife of its sheath and pushed it against Floki's throat.

"Where is my anchor?" Ragnar asked.

"It was promised for today." Floki replied, not scared at all.

"Maybe your blacksmith is a liar?" Ragnar wanted to know.

Floki couldn't suppress a giggle as he reached into his pocket and fetched a lock of blond hair. "I don't think so", he assured Ragnar, "This lock is from his daughter's head. I promised him I would kill her if he told the Earl."

Floki smiled at Ragnar and Ragnar put the dagger back into his pocket. By now the whole crew had arrived, all except Knut.

"I don't see Knut." Ragnar stated.

"That is because he is not here." Floki agreed.

"Well, we don't have the time to wait for him." Ragnar decided.

The loading had been completed and the men who would participate in this great Journey were standing on the pier. They all knew what had to come next, they had to ask the gods for their protection. They sat down in the grass and one of the slaves brought a big bowl filled with water. Floki was the first. He sprinkled some of the water over a statue of the god Njord before washing his hair, his beard his mouth and nose in the water.

"We ask the gods for strong winds and calm seas." Floki said.

Ragnar was next. The slave girl with the water bowl approached him, before he and all the others performed the washing rite.

They set sail shortly after noon, in a friendly and sunny day. They steered the boat out on the open sea, westward.

* * *

In the town of Kattegat, Knut entered the Earl's Great Hall.

"They set sail", he announced.

"Good, then they will never be heard of again." The Earl rejoiced.

"But what if Ragnar is right?" Knut wanted to know.

"There are no lands to the west!" the Earl said.

* * *

The sun had set over the sea and the men were sleeping in their boat. Ragnar was on the helm and he noted the waves were getting bigger with every minute.

An hour later, he awoke the others. "A storm is coming." He announced while he was securing a barrel of water. The men came to live. They pulled down the sail and prepared the oars to row.

The rain was heavy and the boat was thrown over the waves as the storm was striking. Floki was sitting next to the mast, shivering. "Are you afraid?" Ragnar asked.

"Yes I am afraid", Floki agreed, "not for me, but for my boat."

Rollo couldn't help himself than to rub it in a little more. "Thor is angry with us. He is striking his anvil", he said smiling, "He wants to sink us."

Suddenly Floki's face became happy. "You are right", he agreed, "Thor is striking his hammer. The Lighting is the spark from his anvil. But he is not angry with us. He is celebrating! He wants to show everyone that he cannot sink this boat!" He stood up and received a splash of water into his face, "The gods love my boat!"

* * *

In the monastery, everyone was frightened, too. The monks, as Sansa had learned the men were called, stayed inside and prayed for the storm to pass. Some believed it was a sign, that the end of the world was ahead, others dismissed their fears and assured them, the storm would soon pass.

Sansa had to admit, this was probably the strongest storm she had ever experienced. And by the looks on the monk's faces, most of them were not really used to this harsh weather, too. She was sitting in her guest room. She did not believe the end of the world had come yet, but she didn't want to be outside right now.

* * *

The storm was finally over, but now the fog had trapped the ship. Ragnar had no luck in his search for the sun and finally gave up frustrated. The mood was grim, all over the ship.

"There is no west", one of the men was muttering, "we're sailing into an empty ocean. Leif, Kauko, we have been persuaded by madmen and fools."

He aggravated himself steadily until he finally stood up.

"The god Loki is behind this voyage", he said, "that scoundrel. That sly one…"

"Sit down!" Ragnar interrupted him, "And shut up!"

"You sound like the trickster", the man accused Ragnar, "Maybe you are the god of mischief?"

Ragnar quickly closed in on the fool and took his knife from its sheath. He stabbed the man's throat and turned to Rollo. "Release the ravens." He ordered as he wiped his knife clean on the dead man's shirt.

Rollo opened the cages and several ravens flew away into the foggy sky.

"If the birds do not return, there is land", Ragnar explained, "but if they do return…" He dared not to finish the sentence. After all, no land would mean failure and all the stories he had heard over the years were nothing but lies.

They waited for hours for the birds return. In the meantime the boat was drifting and the mood was sinking every minute. Ragnar finally looked up when he heard the sound of wings in the air. He realized his hopes were false, and they should better return. The raven had found no land.

Arne, a seasoned warrior who had lost an eye in battle before, had heard something else. He listened closer and the unmistakable cry of the bird filled him with joy.

"SEAGULLS!" he yelled.

In a matter of seconds, the crew was cheering. Instead of the raven who would have returned to the boat if there was no land, a seagull meant they had to be close to land.

* * *

The bell interrupted the life in the monastery. Father Cuthbert raced towards the other monks in the courtyard. "What is this? Why was the warning bell rung?" he demanded to know.

"They're here!" one of the monks shouted

"Hell and all its devils!" another one added.

"Lock the gates and stay inside. All of you!" Father Cuthbert ordered.

Ragnar and his group were wading ashore. Ready for battle, they used old pig's blood to smear onto their faces to look frightening.

"No one take unnecessary risks – even to impress the gods", he cautioned the others. He looked at the group of warriors and began to hammer his axe against his shield. The others joined in and their music of war sounded towards the sky.

They marched along the beach until they reached the gates of the building complex, they had seen prior to debarking. Floki tried to look across the wall, while Arne worked on the gate with his hammer and chisel. After a dozen hits into the joint, the gate fell open. Carefully they strode forward and entered the courtyard. It was an eerie silence until Ragnar heard a sound from one of the buildings. He indicated the building on the side. They approached the door and shoved it open. Inside there was a group of frightened men, all clad in similar dark tunics. The warriors mixed with the monks and cut them down, one after another.

Sansa was in her room, terrified. She was sure, Cersei had found her and had sent her father's army to capture her. She crawled underneath the table in her room and hoped they would not find her.

Rollo was walking through one of the paths between the buildings, when before him one of the men came around a corner. He quickly swung his axe and hit the man right in his chest. He went down immediately, bleeding all over the hay where he had fallen.

In the meantime, Ragnar, Leif and Erik were exploring further. The entered the chapel and were stunned by the sight of gold and treasure in front of them. Ragnar put his hand out to grab one of the chandeliers, when he heard Leif behind him. "Why leave such treasure unprotected?" Leif asked, "I don't understand- is there some kind of spell?"

Ragnar's hand, which had almost touched the metal, was quickly pulled back.

"It appears not." Erik answered. He had been faster than Ragnar and grabbed one of the golden chandeliers.

"Maybe they think their god will protect them." Ragnar mused.

Erik indicated the wooden cross on the wall, "If this is their god, he's dead."

"Nailed to a cross", Leif agreed, "He cannot protect 's not alive like Odin, Thor and Frey."

They all spun around when they heard a sound from behind the altar. Ragnar went forward and pulled a young monk out of his cover.

"Please don't kill me." The monk begged. Surprisingly, Ragnar could understand him.

"You speak our language", he stated.

"I have travelled. To spread the word of god." The monk answered.

Ragnar took the book he was holding. He examined in closely, expecting to find hidden treasures between the pages. He was disappointed.

"Of all the treasures I see in this place, you chose to save this. Why?" he asked.

"Because without the word of god, there is only darkness." The shivering monk answered.

Rollo entered the chapel. "This is a strange place indeed." The warrior stated, "we have been everywhere and we have found no women."

"I believe they are the priests of their god", Ragnar explained.

"Can I kill this one now?" Rollo asked.

"He is worth more alive", Ragnar objected, "To sell as a slave."

"We don't have the space on the boat", Rollo argued, "Let me kill him."

"I forbid it." Ragnar said.

"How can you forbid it, little brother?" Rollo asked, "We're all equals."

"Does it really mean that much to you?" Ragnar demanded to know.

Rollo decided to back down. Instead he took his anger out on the wooden cross hanging on the wall. The wood splintered as the cross broke into several pieces under the impact of Rollo's big axe.

Floki was wandering around. He entered the scribe room and looked for treasures. He had never before seen parchment or paper and asked himself what the sense of all this was. He took a roll of paper into his hand, feeling the surface. He tried to eat it, but found the taste unappealing. Then he had an idea. Everywhere in this room there were candles flickering. He took a sheet of paper and held it into the flame. Immediately the flames began to eat the paper. Floki was amazed. He had never before seen something burn that fast. He quickly grabbed more paper and added it to the pyre.

Sansa had been listening to the tumults outside for hours. She was still lying shivering in her room. All she could hope for was for the Lannisters to not find her, and then hopefully leave. By now, the noise had died down. Not wanting to create a sound, she tried to ease herself. Maybe it was already over.

Sansa calmed her nerves and decided, the attack was probably over. She had to get out of this room, she had to get help. She carefully opened the door of her room and walked along the hallway, when she was suddenly standing in front of a man who was definitely no monk.

The man was wearing a leather jacket and had two axes and a big knife on his belt. He was carrying a large shield, different to any shield that would have been used in Westeros. He had a thick beard, thicker than anyone Sansa had ever seen. His hair was braided in the back and the sides of his head were shaven bald. He had blood on his ears, or so it seemed to Sansa. Maybe he was wounded.

Ragnar was puzzled. He believed Rollo, when he told him they had found no women around this place. Rollo would not hide such a detail. Yet there was a young woman, a couple of years older than his daughter Gyda. She had red hair and was wearing a fine dress. The look on her face was as expected, frightened.

Sansa looked the man in the eyes. Deep blue eyes, Sansa had the feeling that the man was looking right inside of her. She knew she should probably run but could not get herself to move. He was definitely no typical Lannister man. Maybe he was some kind of mercenary.

"Can you let me go, please", she begged, "Cersei will kill me."

Ragnar did not understand a word of what the girl in front of him was saying. He grabbed her by her hair and guided her towards the other prisoners.

Sansa screamed in pain as the man held her by her hair. She was dragged along the hallway. Sansa was not sure whether she should be relieved that the man had not killed her at the spot. But instead she was going to be taken prisoner. Sansa prepared herself to face Cersei Lannister again, this time wearing chains.

The warriors guided the captured monks towards the beach. They were carrying the treasures they had found inside the monastery.

One of the captured monks turned around and saw smoke coming up from the place the monastery had started burning. As they reached the beach, one of them tried to get into the water, trying to drown himself. Rollo waded after him and pulled him out.

They were brought to the ship. Neither Sansa nor the monks had ever seen such a ship. It had a long hull and a single mast. The bow was carrying the wooden head of a dragon, or so it seemed to Sansa. The warriors guided their prisoners onto the ship and had them sit down in the center. They rowed the ship from the beach and back towards their home.

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 _A/N:_ _Judging by the number of hits so far, I must be doing something right. It is obviously an interesting combination. How good the story is liked will only be displayed by reviews...  
_

 _I'm sure you realized that we're talking about the Lindisfarrne raid in this chapter._

 _But what will become of Sansa, now that she has been captured?_

 _Don't forget to review!_


	3. Dispossessed

_A/N This is set in Game of Thrones after the purple wedding. Sansa is rescued by littlefinger and brought to a safe place.  
_

 _Vikings fans should be able to guess where we stand in the Vikings timeline..._

 _Westerosi Language is the same as old English, for the sake of the story. Otherwise it would be too much time spent, learning all the languages from scratch.  
_

 _Sansa is 15 years old at the time of the purple wedding in my approach to the story (I am not sure how old she actually was in the episode, but 15 will work here)._

 _To those who are not familiar with the books of 'A Song of Fire and Ice': The second book is titled 'A Clash of Kings'._

 ** _A big thank you to those who reviewed!_**

 _After they've raided the monastery, the vikings return to Kattegat...  
_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

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 **Chapter 3 - Dispossessed**

The ship was sailing over the calm sea. Sansa did not remember being so miserable ever before. And she taken a lot during those past years and months, ever since her father had been executed. But never before like this. Now she was cold, seasick, wet from the salty spray and incredibly hungry. They had only been fed a little bread by their captors. Her miserable feeling was completed by the dirt that had accumulated on her in the past two days, as well as some old bruises she had received during her capture.

Ragnar was smiling at the sun. He was happy, he had been right all the time. Now he finally had the proof. Ragnar remembered that one of the priests could understand his language. He stood up and walked among the prisoners. He found the one he was searching for.

"What is your name?" he asked the monk.

"Athelstan", the monk answered.

"I am Ragnar. Lothbrok." Ragnar introduced himself, "What was that place called?"

"Lindisfarne", Athelstan answered.

"England?" Ragnar wanted to know.

Athelstan nodded.

"It was foretold that divine punishment would fall upon god's chosen people", Athelstan declared, "And that is why I am here."

"No", Ragnar objected, "you are here because I spared your life."

Ragnar went to the bow of the boat and sat next to Rollo. "We did it, brother", he enthused, "We did it!"

"Yes, we did it", Rollo sighed, "Let's just hope the Earl sees it that way."

Ragnar could only nod in agreement. After all, the Earl had specifically ordered not to sail west.

* * *

The boat lay alongside the pier in the main town of Kattegat. The crew was busy unloading their treasures. Sansa, Athelstan and the other captives were tied together and sitting on the pier.

One of the men who had awaited them on the pier now spoke up: "Ragnar Lothbrok! We all know you sailed west and found land and riches, as you promised."

"We salute the bravery of you and those who joined you in this journey!" he announced, "Let no one say it could not be done!"

The crowd cheered. Ragnar had spotted one of the men and approached him.

"Knut", he greeted him, "you missed the boat."

"I come here with a message from Earl Haraldson", Knut said, "He wants you to come to the great hall."

Earl Haraldson was an old man, sitting in his chair next to his wife, Siggy. His first Steward, Sveinn, was examining the treasures the men had brought into the great hall.

"My lord, it was easy to take all this treasure. The priests in the temple, they had no weapons. They were like babies." Ragnar declared. He pulled on the rope he had tied Athelstan to. "This is one of their priests", he announced, "We captured several of them, to sell for slaves."

"It must be true", Ragnar added, "That there must be many more such holy places. And sailing there would benefit us all."

Earl Haraldson cocked an inquiring eyebrow. "How did you find this place of great riches when everyone before you failed?" he asked.

"We were more fortunate than others", Ragnar explained, "We had Thor on our side."

"Then you were indeed fortunate", the Earl agreed, "but you do understand that all this belongs to me – by right."

Ragnar could not believe his ears. "My lord, Floki and I paid for the boat. Surely we are entiteled so some reward. And the crew…" He began.

"You want me to pay you?" the Earl interrupted him. He exchanged a quick glance with his wife. Then he nodded.

"Very well, each of you can take one thing of this hoard", the old Earl declared, "And you will still be richer than before. Ragnar and Floki, for paying for the boat, you can take two things."

The crew was standing with their mouths open. They had lost everything they had gained. Ragnar took a quick look around and saw the Earl's household guards standing in the great hall. He decided this was not the time to fight. He walked over to the heap of treasure, grabbing and examining several things, every eye in the hall on him. Finally he turned to the Earl.

"I will take the priest and the girl. For my slaves." He announced.

Siggy burst into laughter at the absurdity of his choice. Earl Haraldson almost joined in. Then he caught himself: "Granted."

* * *

Ragnar tied a rope loosely around the necks of Sansa and Athelstan. Then he distributed his load on the two of them and began to walk. Sansa had no idea, what was going on. All she knew, was that Athelstan had whispered to her, they now belonged to him, the man that had taken Sansa prisoner. Since he was walking away from the village, and she was still alive, she had only one thought: She would be brought back to King's Landing alive, so Cersei could kill her. This man was her prison guard, obviously. Shortly thereafter, Sansa encountered another fear: Would they have to walk all the way until she would be executed by Ilyn Payne?

Gyda was sitting outside the farm house. She was cleaning fish and was fully concentrated on her task. Ragnar neared himself silently and tied the rope holding Sansa and Athelstan to one of the fence posts. Then he stepped quietly behind his daughter. Suddenly he made a noise like geese, and Gyda jumped into his arms.

"Father!" she exclaimed.

Lagertha and Bjorn had heard her from inside and quickly joined in. Ragnar was hugged by his son and passionately kissed by his wife.

"So, where is all the treasure you promised?" Lagertha asked teasingly.

"The earl took it all for himself", Ragnar grumbled, "But it was there."

"I don't believe you", Lagertha teased.

"You ought to believe me", Ragnar affirmed, "This is a priest from the temple we raided. And we also found this girl." He showed them the two prisoners tied to the fence.

"Although they are strangers, the priest can speak our language", Ragnar explained.

Bjorn looked at Athelstan's haircut and asked, "What is wrong with your hair?"

"When we become monks, they cut our hair", he explained, "It marks us out."

Ragnar and Lagertha had disappeared into the house and the children had been left alone with Athelstan and Sansa. Sansa thought for a moment about escaping, but the thought was not so appealing itself. After all she'd stick out in this strange country. She did not know the language and had no idea where to go. But it might just as well be her only chance of escape before they reached King's Landing.

In the meantime, Gyda had asked Athelstan another question, "If you're a priest, which god do you like best?"

Athelstan looked puzzled. "There is only one god." He declared.

It had become night. Sansa and Athelstan lay awake, frightened. They could hear Ragnar and Lagertha in bed behind the next room. Their moaning and groaning filled the dimly lit house.

The next morning, Sansa prepared herself for another day of walking, until they would eventually reach King's Landing, where she would be executed on Cersei's orders. Instead she was surprised they were staying in the house. Sansa and Athelstan were quickly put to work, which seemed to never end on this farm. Finally, they were allowed to take a break at noon. They were both given a portion of fish soup, before the work continued. Sansa's fine dress was completely wrecked by the time the day was over. Gyda, the little girl, traded her one of her dresses, green wool, and a little too small, but it was better than the silk dress Sansa had worn before.

In the evening, Ragnar assembled Sansa and Athelstan in the main room of the house.

"Athelstan, I need you to translate", Ragnar ordered.

"What is your name?" he asked Sansa.

Sansa could not believe what she had heard. Did he really not know who she was? After all, she had thought she was the target of the attack. She finally murmured, "Sansa."

"Well, Sansa, you now belong to me as a slave. You will both do as you are told." Ragnar instructed them.

Sansa was sure she was having a nightmare. Did he really just say slave? Was their ultimate target the slaver's bay? Or would he keep them as his personal slaves? Or would he sell her to Cersei once he found out who she really was? Sansa had already realized this was a rather northern place. The furs that could be seen everywhere gave an accurate hint of the climate. Sansa could not believe that northern people would sell slaves. Actually, she vaguely remembered that her father had dealt with someone selling slaves, but that had to be at least ten years in the past.

In the meantime, Ragnar had given them both a drink of Ale.

"We don't like those in the house to go hungry or thirty", he said. They booth took a sip from the cups. Sansa coughed. She had gotten used to drinking wine in King's Landing, but had never been enthusiastic about beer. And this stuff was even more bitter than the beer served back home in Winterfell.

"Now tell me about England", Ragnar demanded, "Has it only one king?"

"No there are four kingdoms and four kings", Athelstan explained, "You landed in the kingdom of Northumbria. The King of Northumbria is called Aelle. He is a good king. A powerful king."

"If he is so powerful, why did his soldiers not protect your temple?" Ragnar wanted to know. Athelstan looked at him in surprise.

"Before you came, there was no need to protect us", Athelstan explained, "We lived in peace."

"I would like to learn some words in your language", Ragnar said, "And I want you to teach her some of ours. So she can be of more help."

The days went by in the usual way the farm was run. Sansa learned her first words in the Norse language, while Ragnar struggled with his English. In between, they took care of the fields, the animals and Sansa and Athelstan slowly found themselves into their new roles.

* * *

Several weeks later, Ragnar took Athelstan to Kattegat to a meeting with Earl Haraldson. The entered the great hall, where the Earl was busy inventoring the treasure he had and distributing the payments among the household warriors.

"Come." Svein, the steward, commanded.

Ragnar walked in front of the Earl, pulling the rope Athelstan was tied to behind him. He pushed the former monk to the floor where he remained kneeling.

"Ragnar Lothbrok. How do you find your new slave?" the Earl asked.

"I find him very useful", Ragnar answered, "And I hope you will agree. I have spoken of great length with my slave."

"He has travelled far", Ragnar recounted, "and he told me of other lands to the west. I have also learned a lot about this England and its customs."

"And what would we care about their customs?" Siggy asked.

"Well, for example he has told me of a great town, near to the temple we raided." Ragnar answered.

"NO!" Athelstan interrupted, "I was lying! There is nothing…"

"You see, this town is clearly worth a visit." Ragnar concluded.

"I could go there myself." The Earl objected.

"Yes, Lord, you could", Ragnar agreed, "But why put yourself at risk? Why not choose someone who has more experience with this journey – and who is more expendable?"

Earl Haraldson seemed to think but Ragnar was not yet ready to give up.

"Give us back our boat", he urged the Earl, "we will raid the town and all the riches we bring back will be yours to do as you please."

"Very well. I sanction another raid", the Earl agreed, "On one condition: A warrior I trust will go with you – Knut!" Knut stepped forward from the shades in the back of the hall.

"Don't worry, Lord Haraldson", Knut said, "I will take good care of your interests."

Ragnar nodded his agreement and left the hall. The Earl looked after him.

"He has found a new way to navigate the sea", he stated, "Find out what it is."

On their way back to the farm, they passed several of the monks who had been executed. Athelstan sank to his knees.

"Oh lord, forgive me for what I have done." He prayed.

Ragnar looked back impatiently when Athelstan refused to follow him. He saw that he was kneeling in front of the executed monks. He picked his knife, approaching the slave. He hold the knife to the former monk's throat, ready to cut it. Athelstan refused to move, almost as if he preferred death. Ragnar thought for a second, then cut the rope around his neck instead.

"Run if you want", he offered.

Athelstan blinked at the unforeseen possibility. Then he stood up and followed Ragnar.

Ragnar and Athelstan had reached the farm after a long march. The news were surprising to the others.

"I have the Earl's permission for another raid", Ragnar announced at the dining table, "I want to leave as soon as possible."

"And how soon is that?" Lagertha wanted to know.

"Tomorrow." Ragnar told her.

"Then we will sacrifice to Thor, so he may grant you a safe passage." She said.

"Are you not coming?" Ragnar asked smilingly.

"But the farm, the children…" Lagertha objected.

"Bjorn is still too young, although he can help on the farm", Ragnar explained.

"But who is to be in charge?" Bjorn asked.

"I will leave the priest with a key", Ragnar decided, "He is a very responsible person."

"Father! You cannot place a slave above me!" Bjorn protested, "I am your son."

"I don't regard him as a slave." Ragnar said, "What do you think, Gyda?"

"I don't mind", the little girl answered, "I like the priest."

"Then it is decided." Ragnar announced and left the room.

Lagertha looked deeply into Athelstan's eyes. "If any harm befalls my children, I will tear the lungs out of your body, priest", she threatened.

* * *

They set sail in a warm summer rain. Shortly after, they had reached the open sea and even the last clouds were dispersed. The journey was uneventful, this time they knew exactly how long the journey would take.

They finally reached the shoreline of the kingdom of Northumbria. They waded to the beach when Kauko pointed out. A group of riders and men on foot approached. The Vikings walked carefully closer.

"Good day", the leader of the English soldiers greeted them, "I am the sheriff here. Who are you?"

"We're Northmen." Ragnar replied in English.

"Traders?" the sheriff wanted to know.

"Yes, traders." Ragnar agreed.

"If you want to trade, you need to meet our king Aelle." The sheriff announced.

"What is he saying?" Rollo wanted to know.

"He wants us to meet the king." Ragnar translated.

"That's a trap", Rollo answered.

"It might help us to go along with them until we know where we are", Ragnar suggested.

"I am with Rollo", Erik added, "I say we kill them all and be done with it."

"We will come with you." Ragnar told the sheriff in English.

The sheriff had not missed the discussion among the northern warriors. They did not move although they had agreed to come along.

"Come. The royal villa is not far." The sheriff encouraged them. As he received an angry look from Rollo he asked, "What is his problem?"

"He doesn't trust you." Ragnar answered.

The sheriff thought about the problem for a minute. If he had to force them to come with him, it would end in a battle, where there more enemies than friends. If he just let them go, he disrespected his orders. Then he found a solution. He took the heavy chain with the medallion, who identified him as the sheriff, and handed it to Rollo.

Rollo seemed a little satisfied and encouraged this would not be a trap. Then Floki came forward from the back of the group. He took the handover of the big chain as an invitation. His target was the silver cross, which one of the northumbrian footmen was wearing around his neck. He grabbed it and pulled. The english warrior, startled by the attack, drew his sword. Immediately, everyone was armed and the northmen began to cut down the English soldiers one by one.

"Friends! In the name of god!" The sheriff tried to call his men back to order but the battle was already underway. It was quickly decided. Most of the English soldiers were cut down immediately. Two of them tried to reach the horses. Ragnar ran after the first one and tackled him to the ground. Then he looked up and saw that the other soldier had reached the horses and managed to climb on it.

Ragnar sighed in frustration. They would soon know about the attack and respond.

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 _A/N:_ _Judging by the number of hits so far, I must be doing something right. It is obviously an interesting combination. How good the story is liked will only be displayed by reviews...  
_

 _Vikings fans surely realized that I cut out the threesome-proposal from that episode. It would not have fitted my idea of where I am going in this story, if I had included Sansa in this scene... it was easier to cut it out completely._

 _In general I am sure you realized what I'm doing: I am basically rewriting the Vikings series from the start of season 1 on. I will stick to canon, for now, and will deviate from it as the story moves along..._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	4. Trial

_A/N This is set in Game of Thrones after the purple wedding. Sansa is rescued by littlefinger and brought to a safe place.  
_

 _Vikings fans should be able to guess where we stand in the Vikings timeline..._

 _Westerosi Language is the same as old English, for the sake of the story. Otherwise it would be too much time spent, learning all the languages from scratch.  
_

 _Sansa is 15 years old at the time of the purple wedding in my approach to the story (I am not sure how old she actually was in the episode, but 15 will work here)._

 _To those who are not familiar with the books of 'A Song of Fire and Ice': The second book is titled 'A Clash of Kings'._

 ** _A big thank you to those who reviewed!_**

 ** _Reply to the Guest Review on chapter 3:_**

 _Firstly, thank you for your honest review. I must admit, it is easy for me to understand the stories because I am a fan of both Vikings and Game of thrones. As I've stated before, chapters 2 and 3 are basically rewritten episodes of Vikings Season 1, Episodes 2 and 3. In hindsight, I have to admit, without the knowledge of Vikings Season 1, Episode 1 the background for the Vikings storyline is somehow missing.  
_

 _So, I probably should have written an extra chapter, covering the Episode 1 of Vikings. I decided not to do this, for two main reasons:_

 _Firstly, I tried to create a feeling like Sansa must experience, when she is captured and has no clue what is going on. She has no idea who the attackers are, where she is and what will happen to her. She is also completely uninformed about the social dynamics between the vikings..._

 _Secondly, this extra chapter to set the backgroud would have been a basic transript of the first episode of Vikings. No effort on my part, except for the typing. I am not sure if the guidelines would even allow that, but I would not feel comfortable uploading such a chapter without any input from myself._

 _And of course, there are a lot of small references to the Game of Thrones universe... Bear in mind that there are three complete seasons of Game of thrones storyline implied._

 _In any case, I am glad that you told me about this issue. Although I tried to create a little overwhelming feeling, as it would have been experienced by Sansa and Athelstan (and likely any other captured monk), I certainly did not want to get readers completely lost. I hope that you will keep reading and hopefully figure out the storyline as we move along.  
_

* * *

 _Ragnar and his friends are back in England where heavy fighting awaits them. But the real danger waits back home...  
_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

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 **Chapter 04 Trial**

Ragnar and his warriors marched along the hills and fields.

"How far till Hexam?" Ragnar asked the English soldier they had taken prisoner at the beach.

"Not far", he stammered.

They marched on and soon Arne, at the point of the group, called out that he saw the city. The northmen walked through the forest and took a closer look on the city.

"Let's attack straight away", Rollo urged.

"No", Ragnar declined, "We wait."

"Why wait?" Rollo wanted to know.

"It is a big city", Ragnar explained, "and we only have a few men."

"Then surprise is our biggest advantage", Rollo insisted.

"Arne, what day is it?" Ragnar asked the one-eyed Viking.

Arne took a moment to calculate. "Saturday", he answered.

"Then we will attack tomorrow", Ragnar decided, "And you will understand it."

The morning came and the Vikings were getting ready for their attack. Lagertha was sharpening her sword with a stone, Leif was preparing the rope they would use to climb the walls.

"It is tomorrow." Rollo urged to attack.

"Wait a little longer", Ragnar said patiently, "And listen."

They all listened. The forest was quiet. There were no sounds from the town to be heard either. Finally a bell rang from the town.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Ragnar asked.

They closed in on the wooden wall. Ragnar and Rollo tied axes to the ends of the ropes and threw them over the edge of the wall. The axes worked like anchors and Ragnar and Rollo were able to climb over the wall. They opened the gates from the inside and the warriors entered the town.

It was an eerie feeling. The town seemed completely deserted, except for some geese wandering around. Ragnar led the group towards the church. They could see several swords leaning on the wall of the church, next to the door.

They pushed the door open and the people inside were terrified.

"In the name of god, who are you?" the priest at the altar wanted to know.

"Why have you come here?" he asked, "This is a place of god!"

Ragnar smiled. "If you do not resist, we will not harm you. Tell that to your people, priest. God bless." He instructed him.

The priest tried to keep the people in the church calm while the Vikings grabbed everything of value in the church. Chandeliers, golden crosses and jewelry was placed on a heap in the middle of the church.

Rollo was searching one of the houses. He had just reached the conclusion that this house was empty, when he heard someone cough in the next room. He went into the room, ready for battle. But all he saw was an old man, too weak to stand up from his bed. He saw the brass cup and water can standing on a table next to him. He took the cup, poured some water into it and gave it to the old man. The man looked at Rollo with disbelief, until Rollo pushed against the cup once more and the old man drank the water. After he finished the cup, Rollo grabbed the cup and the can and headed back to the others.

Knut was also searching the houses. He was in a bad mood. In this house there was absolutely nothing of value. A couple of iron spoons, but that was it. Then he saw movement in the corner. He walked closer and saw a woman and a boy shivering under his view. He decided if there was nothing of value in here, he could still have some fun. He grabbed the woman by her red hair and pushed her over the table. He held his axe against the back of her head and ripped her dress open.

In this moment, Lagertha entered the house. She took one look and realized what Knut was up to.

"Knut!" she yelled, "Leave her alone!"

"What do you care for this saxon bitch?" he asked and pushed the shieldmaiden out of his way.

Lagertha drew her sword and hit Knut on his back with the flat side of the blade. He became angry and let go of the saxon woman, who fled the house. Knut grabbed Lagertha on her shoulders and struck her head against the wall. She was stunned and unable to defend herself. Knut took advantage and began to open her dress. Lagertha drifted back to consciousness and kneed him in the groin. Knut retreated for a moment the resumed his attack. Lagertha took the knife from his belt and stabbed it into his side.

Knut fell to the ground. Lagertha needed a moment to catch her breath and then headed back to the others.

The horn sounded all over the town, ordering the northmen to retreat. The different groups had met and their spoils had been packed into fishing nets to be carried.

"Where is Knut?" Ragnar asked.

"I killed him", Lagertha stated.

"You killed him?" Ragnar asked disbelievingly.

"He tried to rape a saxon woman", Lagertha explained, "Then he tried to rape me."

"Did anyone else see it happen?" Ragnar wanted to know.

"No", Lagertha admitted.

"Well, that's a pity" Ragnar stated.

* * *

The group of warriors made their way back to the beach, where they had left their boat. When the entered the beach, Floki and Thorstein froze. In front of them was a group of English warriors, ready for battle. They had laid the bodies of the two Vikings guarding the boat in front of them on the beach.

The Vikings emerged on the beach. When Ragnar saw the archers, he commanded "Shield wall!"

The warriors linked their shields together, forming a tight wall. The English archers drew their arrows and loosened a hail of projectiles on the Viking shield wall. The arrows struck the shields, some even almost penetrated. Ragnar's shield was hit by an arrow and the point came through at the back, forcing Ragnar to pull his head back.

"Charge!" the English commander ordered. Ragnar peered through a hole between the shields and ordered his men to stand up. The shield wall shivered under the assault of the English footmen. Yet, they held it in place. Both sides were shoving and striking over the wall, hoping to land a hit. Ragnar grabbed an Englishman's spear and turned his shield so there was a gash in the wall. Arne behind him quickly loosened his arrow and the English soldier fell to the ground. To encourage the others, Rollo started a rhyme, which they all knew:

 _Up onto the overturned keel_  
 _Clamber, with a heart of steel_  
 _Cold is the ocean's spray_  
 _And your death is on its way_  
 _With maidens you have had your way_  
 _Each must die some day!_

At the last words, Arne and Thorstein were lifted from the ground by the men in the back of the formation, standing on the shields. They loosened their arrows over the shield wall and hit several English soldiers. Rollo's broad axe lunged forward and hit the soldier facing him in the back of the head. Ragnar stabbed one of the swords they had captured into another soldiers body. Kauko turned his shield and one of the English soldiers was pushed forward and fell to the ground behind the Viking shieldwall. Floki was over him at once and dug his boatbuilding hatchet into his chest. Kauko turned back towards the front of the shieldwall and was struck in the chest by an English sword. He fell to the ground dying, and Lagertha recognized the gash in the shield wall.

"Shield wall!" she yelled, leaping forward and covering the gap. Thorstein quickly stepped to the side, closing the gap and Lagertha stepped back. One of the Englishmen had broken through and Lagertha attacked him. He caught the first blow from her sword, before it connected with his neck after all.

Rollo pushed through the shield wall. He grabbed one English soldier by his clothing and dragged him behind the Viking shieldwall. He pushed him into the sand and buried his big axe in his back. By now the English formation was severely weakened. The surviving members quickly fled back to where they had come from. The Vikings followed them and cut down many of the fleeing, only a handful escaped.

* * *

Back on the farm outside of Kattegat, life went on. Sansa had to admit, she could have had a far worse fate. She was getting used to the life on the farm, and she had befriended the children, especially Gyda.

Sansa helped Gyda feed the goats. They were in the shed, talking. Sansa was steadily learning the language and she took every opportunity to practice.

"Do you have any family, Sansa?" Gyda asked.

"They're all dead", Sansa told her, "I had three brothers and one sister. And another brother, his mother was not our mother- what do you call it?

"A half-brother?" Gyda helped out.

"Yes. My father was a lord, the old king's best friend. When the king died, his son accused my father of treason and cut off his head."

"I'm so sorry", Gyda told Sansa, "What about the others?"

"My oldest brother, Rob went to avenge my father. My two younger brothers were killed by an old friend of the family who betrayed him. My sister went missing one day and I believe she is dead." Sansa explained, "Robb and my mother fought against the king for years - until they were ambushed and killed."

By now the tears were coming out of Sansa's eyes. Gyda took her in her arms and let her cry for a minute.

"I am sorry your family is dead." the little girl said.

They finished feeding the goats, then Sansa went on to chop the wood for the fire. Gyda joined Athelstan at cleaning the fish.

"Priest, what does your god look like?" the girl asked.

"We do not know. He does not walk among us." Athelstan answered.

"Then how can he be real?" The girl argued, "Our gods are real, Thor, Loki. Sometimes they can be seen."

"They are not real." Athelstan objected, "They don't exist. They are false idols."

The both looked up when Bjorn joined them. "Enough of that, priest!" he said angrily.

In the evening, they were in the house for dinner. Athelstan placed the bowl of soup on the table. The two children and the two slaves sat on the table. He portioned the soup.

"I want to go to Kattegat and see my father return from England", Bjorn stated.

"I promised your father that I would look after you both here", Athelstan responded.

"We could all go", the boy suggested.

"Then who would look after the farm?" Athelstan asked.

Bjorn sat down, fuming for anger.

"For what we are about to receive, may the lord make us truly grateful", Athelstan prayed. He took the cups and filled three of them with Ale.

"Can I have some Ale, too?" Gyda asked shyly.

"You're too young, Gyda, to drink Ale", Athelstan protested.

Bjorn took his cup and placed it in Gyda's hand. She took a couple of sips then placed the cup back on the table.

"I want to make a sacrifice to Thor – for my father's safe return." Bjorn announced.

"What will you sacrifice?" Athelstan wanted to know.

"You!" Bjorn yelled angrily. The boy stood up and angrily left the room.

After the children had gone to sleep, Athelstan had an idea. He quickly talked it over with Sansa, before they woke Bjorn.

"What is it?" he wanted to know.

"Tomorrow, Sansa will take you to Kattegat", Athelstan informed him, "I will stay here and look after the farm."

* * *

The crowd cheered as the boat neared the pier. The people of Kattegat were eager to hear the stories of the raid. Sansa and the children had arrived in the morning and were cheering just as everyone else. The people went silent, as the Earl walked out of his great hall.

"Ragnar Lothbrok, my friend", he greeted, "I hope your voyage was successful? For all our sakes?"

Ragnar answered by placing one of the fishing nets at the Earl's feet. It was filled with finely crafted treasures.

"The Saxons attack us in great force when we returned to the boat", Ragnar told them, "But we defeated them!" The crowd cheered.

"You are the man, people say you are - a gifted adventurer and a great warrior", the Earl complimented him, "I am happy to salute your achievements."

He looked around. "But I don't see my friend Knut – where is he?" the Earl queried.

"My Lord, Knut is dead", Ragnar told him.

"Did he die in battle?" Earl Haraldson wanted to know.

"No", Ragnar answered.

"Then how did he die?" the Earl kept asking.

"I killed him." Ragnar admitted.

"You killed him?" the Earl looked disbelievingly at Ragnar, "Why did you do that?"

"The tried to rape my wife, Lagertha", Ragnar replied.

"I find it too convenient that you would make an excuse to kill my friend – my agent on your voyage." The Earl stated.

"Arrest him!" Svein, standing behind the Earl ordered the guards. Several guards stepped closer and tried to detain Ragnar.

It immediately became a melee. Floki had drawn his knife and held it against the throat of one of the guards. Leif and Lagertha were holding back the second guard.

"I would counsel you all against such actions", Svein cautioned them, "There is no way you could prevail."

Ragnar nodded and Floki, Leif, Rollo and Lagertha gave up their resistance. Ragnar was taken away by the guards.

* * *

The hooded man entered the small, separated room of the great hall. When he stepped through the door, the Earl looked up from his meal.

"Sit down", he offered, "Eat, and drink."

Rollo pulled his hood back and took a seat. "You wanted to talk to me?" he asked.

"Yes. It's a delicate matter." The Earl began, "You are the brother of Ragnar Lothbrok?"

"I am, Lord." Rollo answered.

"A great man, your brother. Is he also a fair man?" the Earl wanted to know.

When Rollo did not answer, he continued, "Does he treat you equally when you sail with him?"

"To a point", Rollo admitted.

"Forgive me", the Earl went on, "but I have the impression that he wants to rule you? That he considers himself _first among equals_?"

"I don't know", Rollo stated.

"I believe he wants the credit for everything: for building the boat, for sailing west", Earl Haraldson said, "But would all these things have been possible without you?"

Rollo took a sip of Ale. "No", he answered, "It would have been impossible."

"As long as I am Earl, Ragnar Lothbrok can give you nothing", the Earl stated, "I on the other hand can offer you a great deal."

"I could for example confiscate all the treasure you brought back from England – and give you a great portion of it", the Earl offered.

"Would you to that, Lord?" Rollo wanted to know.

"That depends. On how big your ambitions are", the Earl replied, "You want to be someone, Rollo. You want the gods to notice you."

"They might have noticed me already", Rollo said.

"Oh no, my friend", Earl Haraldson said, "And do you know why? Because you still walk in the shadow of Ragnar Lothbrok."

A young woman entered the room. She had long, brown hair and gave Rollo a beautiful smile.

"This is my daughter, Thyri", the Earl introduced her, "She is soon to be married and I must think carefully about her future husband. He has to be a man of ambition and prospect, as you surely understand. Say hello to Rollo, Thyri."

"Hello, Rollo", she replied shyly.

"I had two sons, but they were murdered", the Earl continued, "So the man who is to be my son-in-law will hold a high and special place."

Another woman entered the room. She was older, yet still beautiful. The resemblance with Thyri was obvious.

"Don't forget about me, my love", she said.

"Of course not. This is my wife, Siggy", the Earl introduced her, "This is Rollo, he is the brother of Ragnar Lothbrok."

* * *

The next morning, the great hall was fully occupied. Everyone in Kattegat who could afford to spend the day away from his farm or his business had come to watch the trial. Sansa was standing behind Lagertha, next to Gyda and Bjorn. She could not help herself, she was afraid. If the trial was going to be anything like those she had witnessed in King's Landing, Ragnar was doomed, and his family likewise. And she would probably be killed as well.

The Earl entered the great hall. His wife was walking next to him. They were flanked by the warriors of their household troops. Earl Haraldson took his high seat, his wife next to him. He nodded and Svein, his steward ordered, "Bring in the prisoner!"

The doors opened and Ragnar was brought forward. He was still wearing his blood-encrusted leather jacket, the one he wore for battle. His belt and the weapons were missing. He was shackled around the wrists and ankles with heavy chains.

Sansa could not prevent herself from remembering that fateful day. Her father had been just as stoically, wearing the chains and awaiting his trial.

"Ragnar Lothbrok. You stand here before us, accused of the willful murder of Knut Tjodulf, my brother", the Earl declared.

"Knut, as some of you may know was the bastard son of my father. But I loved him like a brother", the Earl explained.

"I asked Knut to join Ragnar Lothbrok in his raid to England. There they raided a town and brought back many spoils. And while they were raiding, Ragnar Lothbrok took it upon himself to cold-bloodedly kill my brother", the Earl said accusingly.

"It is easy to imagine why a man would do such a thing", the Earl continued, "This is an ambitious man." He paused for a moment. "He doesn't like to share his spoils. And he resents the fact that he owes me loyalty and obedience as his chieftain. This is a man who does not believe in our traditions", he accused Ragnar, "This is a man, who does not believe in our laws."

A murmur went through the hall, until Svein had to yell "Silence!" The chatter died down and all eyes lay on Ragnar.

"It is true that I killed Knut, sadly, your brother", Ragnar admitted, "But I killed him when I found him trying to rape my wife." Ragnar turned towards the spectators. "I ask all of you, _free_ men, what would you have done?" He said, "Would you have stood back? Encouraged the culprit? I don't think so."

"And even if I had known at the time that he was your brother", he addressed the Earl, "I still would have carried out the same sentence."

"Do you seriously ask us to believe your story?" Svein asked mocking.

"I can confirm the story", Lagertha spoke up.

"You are the wife of Ragnar Lothbrok?" Earl Haraldson asked.

"I am, Lord." She answered.

"How extraordinary that you happened to be there", the Earl wondered, "Your husband is lying. And you are so under his thumb that he has persuaded you to lie for him."

Lagertha was looking angry. "May Thor strike you dead!" she cursed, "My husband did not kill Knut Tjodulf!"

"Then who did?" Svein inquired.

"I did!" Lagertha yelled. "I stabbed him in the heart when he did his best to rape me", she explained.

A disbelieving laughter waved through the room. Siggy was sitting on her chair next to her husband with her mouth open, mocking Lagertha.

"A murder is committed and the only witnesses are a husband and his wife", Svein stated laughing.

"Unfortunately we cannot tell who committed the crime because they both claim credit for it", the Earl said mockingly. Then he became serious again.

"You didn't kill my brother", Earl Haraldson said to Lagertha, "Look at you. How could you? Ragnar Lothbrok killed my brother!"

"We have proof", Svein announced, "We have a witness to the killing."

Ragnar looked around in confusion, trying to find out who of his crew was about to betray him. Finally, Rollo stepped forward.

"You say you are a witness to the killing of Knut Tjodulf?" Svein asked, "And you will swear this on your arm ring?"

"I was there", Rollo answered, "I saw everything."

"So, who killed my brother?" the Earl asked.

Ragnar shot his brother an angry glance.

"Ragnar Lothbrok killed him", Rollo stated.

"In cold blood?" the Earl queried.

"No. For a very good reason", Rollo said, "What Ragnar Lothbrok has sworn is true. Your brother was raping a saxon woman. Then he tried to rape Ragnar's lawful wife, Lagertha, the shieldmaiden."

"So, unfortunately, you cannot punish him", Rollo concluded.

Ragnar was smiling broadly. "Now who has the key?" he asked holding up his chains.

* * *

Later in the evening, the warband had assembled in Erik Maarten's house in the center of Kattegat. They were celebrating the newfound freedom of their leader.

"To Ragnar! And freedom!" Leif toasted.

"No", Ragnar objected, "To friends and freedom!" He raised his horn of Ale and drank.

"But you will never be free of us!" Arne added laughingly.

Laughter filled the room. The men were drinking and dancing. Sansa and the children were sitting on the side, Bjorn almost asleep for the Ale, Gyda almost sober, yet tired. And despite the fact that Ragnar had taken her prisoner and made her a slave, Sansa was somehow glad that he had been found not guilty.

"Ragnar, did you see Haraldson's face when he had to release you and give you half his hoard? He looked like this" Floki yelled, impersonating a look of complete speechless surprise.

Erik was outside, relieving himself into the dirt. A man approached him silently from behind and cut his throat with a knife. Several men entered the house and ended the celebration.

"Ragnar Lothbrok?" their leader asked.

"I am unarmed", Ragnar said standing up. "Get the children", he instructed Lagertha.

Lagertha tried to step away from one of the warriors. In this moment he raised his axe and tried to hit her. She was barely able to avoid the hit. The friends of Ragnar attacked the warriors and after a quick, heated battle, all attackers were dead.

In the morning, they dumped the bodies of the attackers in front of the great hall. The group of friends was mourning for Erik. It was hardest for Leif, his son and his wife Elisef. Ragnar was angry, the Earl had not been able to get to him during the trial and had sent his warriors to assasinate him and his family. After they returned home to the farm, he kept on chopping wood with enough anger to make Bjorn jump. Shortly thereafter, he was seen walking towards the hills with a woolen blanket. He kept sitting there, staring into nothing.

"What is Ragnar doing, sitting on the hill?" Athelstan asked at dinner.

Ragnar was preparing himself. For Battle.

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 _A/N: The longest chapter so far! This is mainly because in this episode is a lot of dialogue and not a single bit you can leave out._

 _Otherwise the story wouldn't work anymore..._

 _Don't forget to review!  
_


	5. Raid

_A/N This is set in Game of Thrones after the purple wedding. Sansa is rescued by littlefinger and brought to a safe place.  
_

 _Vikings fans should be able to guess where we stand in the Vikings timeline..._

 _Westerosi Language is the same as old English, for the sake of the story. Otherwise it would be too much time spent, learning all the languages from scratch.  
_

 _Sansa is 15 years old at the time of the purple wedding in my approach to the story (I am not sure how old she actually was in the episode, but 15 will work here)._

 _To those who are not familiar with the books of 'A Song of Fire and Ice': The second book is titled 'A Clash of Kings'._

 ** _A big thank you to those who reviewed! And to those who subscribed as well... you would not have subscribed, if you'd thought of this story as bad...  
_**

 _After the trial, Ragnar and his family are back at the farm...  
_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

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 **Chapter 05 Raid  
**

Ragnar and Athelstan had returned from their fishing trip in the morning. Now Athelstan was cleaning the fish, while Ragnar was lying on his bed, staring into the candle next to him.

"May I ask you something?" Athelstan began.

"What is it?" Ragnar wanted to know.

"Am I still your slave?" the monk queried.

"Does it matter?" Ragnar replied.

"It matters because I've noticed that in your world slaves are often treated worse than dogs", Athelstan explained.

"Do I treat you like a dog?" Ragnar asked,

"That's not my point", Athelstan continued, "Legally you could beat me to death... a man can rape his female slave but not a free woman."

"It is true, that we distinguish between those captured in battle and our own free men and women", Ragnar admitted, "It's just the way it is. And why do you say 'your world'? You live here now. And you never tried to escape."

"I think about escaping less every day – even if I could", Athelstan said, "But I would like to be a free man again."

When Ragnar said nothing, Athelstan changed the topic.

"What are you preparing for?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Ragnar responded.

"I've watched you", Athelstan told him, "You have made yourself very strong."

"Perhaps not strong enough", Ragnar admitted, deep in thought.

"What do the gods say?" Athelstan asked smiling. Ragnar sat up, annoyed.

"What do you know about our gods – priest?" Ragnar shot back, "Now finish the fish – in silence!"

* * *

In the main town of Kattegat, there was a lot of activity in the great hall. The warriors sworn to Earl Haraldson were readying themselves for battle. Axes and swords were sharpened, the spearheads were aligned to fit perfectly straight. Everyone was wearing their leather battle jackets, some even had chainmail.

Finally, the Earl joined his warriors. He was also wearing his leather jacket, covered with segments of chainmail. One of his warriors had prepared his sword. He handed it to the Earl who looked at the blade for a moment before he sheathed it. Then he left the great hall in silence, his warriors following him.

* * *

In the smaller village where Ragnar's farm was standing, the day was slow. Lagertha and Athelstan worked together preparing lunch, Gyda and Sansa were feeding the goats. Bjorn was helping an old man with the repairs on the fishing boats.

Ragnar was away in the woods, hunting. He had spent all morning searching for a target. He looked down and saw a stag's dung. As experienced hunter, Ragnar immediately recognized it as fresh. He looked up and carefully walked on.

A few arrows flew through the air and the old man next to Bjorn was falling to the ground. Bjorn looked at him and saw the arrow sticking in his chest. While other villagers ran to the man's aid, which was futile since he already was dead, Bjorn looked up.

At the edge of the village, there was a small shield wall, the shields showing the black and red emblem of Earl Haraldson. Behind the shield wall, several men, including the Earl were on horseback. Bjorn hesitated for a second, then started to run.

The riders charged forward, cutting down the fleeing villagers, men, women and children alike. The Earl stayed back and stated towards Svein, "Let a man who is descendant from the gods, learn that he is _human_ after all."

Lagertha looked up from the carrot she was cutting when she heard the scream. A female scream, one of those she had often before. But never before had she been on the defender's side.

"Athelstan", she ordered, "Get Bjorn."

Athelstan quickly left the room. Sansa and Gyda entered the house through the back door.

"What's happening?" the girl asked.

"We're under attack." Bjorn called as he made it through the door. Lagertha handed her kitchen knife to Gyda, Sansa took the other knife. She handed Athelstan one of Ragnar's axes, while Bjorn drew the knife he always carried on his belt. Lagertha herself picked up her shield hanging on the wall and unsheathed her sword.

"What should we do?" Bjorn asked, "Should we run?"

"No, your father will be back. We stay", Lagertha said as she stepped in front of the group, ready to fight.

"But there are so many" Bjorn called.

"Stay strong." Lagertha ordered.

* * *

Ragnar was closing in on the stag. He could see in in the distance and carefully approached, the bow in his hand not yet drawn. Suddenly, the stag looked up and ran. Ragnar was frustrated and tried to follow it. He had barely made a few steps, when he felt that he should return to the village at once.

Ragnar sprinted along the path in the woods, his anxiety growing with every second. He finally stopped and listened. He could hear the familiar, distinctive sound of battle. The swords and axes, clashing against shields and humans, together with the screams of the wounded and the frightened civilians created a distinctive sound. Ragnar realized that someone was attacking his village. He ran home even faster than before.

When he emerged from the woods, he stopped and took in the scenery. Several houses were already burning, their straw-covered roofs an easy target for the torches carried by the attackers. Some of the attackers were riding on horses, others were on foot and finished the villagers off.

One of the attackers was standing close to Ragnar, his back a perfect target. Ragnar drew an arrow from his quiver and put it on the bowstring. He drew and loosened his arrow. It hit its target straight in the middle of the man's back. Ragnar was running quickly past him and drew his axe from his belt.

Behind a small hedge, one of the attackers was sitting on his horse. Ragnar took careful aim then jumped as high as he could. He grabbed the man on his shoulders and brought him down from the horse. He finished the rider quickly off with an axe chop to the head.

Ragnar came back on his feet and continued to run, cutting down the next attacker. When he had finished him, he saw the next one running right at him. Ragnar quickly aimed, then sent his axe flying. The axehead buried itself in the attacker's chest and the man went down.

Continuing his way through the village, Ragnar encountered three attackers at once. The first went down after a hit with the axe to his throat. The second one came from the side and his sword connected with Ragnar's thigh. A sharp pain shot through Ragnar's leg. His hand was touching the thigh, feeling for injuries. He looked down when he felt something wet on his fingers. Ragnar was bleeding.

The other two attackers decided this was the moment to finish their attack. They both lunged forward, Ragnar was just barely able to block their blows with his axe. He then hit them both in the chest, and both attackers went down.

Ragnar ducked into the bushes around the farmhouse. He carefully looked around, before he stealthily tried to make his way into the house. He had almost reached the door, when he was hit in the back of the shoulder by an arrow. He looked around to see who had shot him and saw Svein, the Earl's steward, standing there with the bow in his hand. Ragnar broke the tail of the arrow off and pulled the tip out of his shoulder.

Then he opened the door of his house. Everyone looked up and caught him from falling.

"You're hurt", Lagertha stated.

"It is time to go now", Ragnar said. Lagertha nodded with tears in her eyes and began to uncover a portion of the floor. Sansa helped her remove the wooden planks. Underneath the floor, the house had a hidden exit, a secret tunnel.

"I don't want to go without you, father!" Bjorn protested.

"I will be right behind you", Ragnar assured him.

Lagertha went into the tunnel first, followed by Gyda, Sansa, Athelstan and Bjorn. Ragnar stayed behind and quickly covered the hole. Then he took a moment to collect his breath.

"Ragnar Lothbrok! Come out! The house is surrounded!" Svein called outside. Ragnar took his axe back into his hand and opened the door.

The Earl, Svein and the rest of the warriors were standing in a semicircle in front of Ragnar. He stumbled forward, barely able to walk straight. He dropped to his knees and put the axe down in front of the Earl's feet.

"You accept that you are a criminal?" the Earl asked triumphantly, "That you are worthy only of death and defeat?"

"I accept my fate", Ragnar answered, "Let me speak with my god."

The Earl nodded and stepped back.

"Odin", Ragnar prayed, "Lord of Lords, father – help me!"

Ragnar quickly grabbed his axe and jumped to his feet. The first of the warriors was struck down by his fist, the second one received the thrown axe to his chest. Ragnar had leaped up on the horse standing next to him and was quickly riding away.

"Bring him back alive", the Earl ordered his men, "Burn the house!"

* * *

Lagertha, the two slaves and the children left the tunnel. They hid behind bushes and carefully made their way to the beach. At the beach, the children, Sansa and Lagertha quickly hopped into the fishing boat, which Athelstan pushed out into the water. He then leaped into the boat, too. They all lay flat in the boat, drifting along the fjord, hoping anyone who saw them would just think the boat had been lost in the attack.

Ragnar was riding like he had never ridden before. He rode into the woods, hoping to distract his pursuers. Once he could not see them anymore, he dismounted from his horse. He slapped it on the back and the horse quickly galloped along the path. Ragnar stumbled into the bushes and covered himself. He did not have to wait for long until several warriors on horses rode along the path. They followed the traces of the horse, riding just past Ragnar.

Ragnar was running along the river, through the water. He tried to distract the dogs, in case they would use some. Suddenly, he heard voices behind him. He looked back and saw two of the Earl's warriors close in on him. He stumbled through the water, weaker with every step. He ran across the fields until he finally arrived at the cliffs above the fjord.

Ragnar looked back for a last time and saw the two warriors approach. They had their swords drawn, ready to kill. In this moment, Ragnar's wounds were too much for him. His eyes closed and he fell.

* * *

At the bottom of the cliff, his family in the fishing boat saw him stand on the top of the cliff. When he fell, he somehow did not hit the cliffs but instead fell right into the water. The stood up in the boat, looking for any sign that he was coming back to the surface. There was just water.

Athelstan dived headlong in the water, and went under. A few seconds passed and he came back up, in his arms the lifeless body of Ragnar.

"Father!" cried Gyda.

"Is he dead?" Bjorn asked anxiously.

Athelstan swam to the boat and the others worked hard to pull Ragar's body in.

Athelstan was rowing the boat, while Lagertha and Sansa were trying to save Ragnar. They had ripped strips of their dresses' sleeves, to bandage him. They were both covered in blood, as Bjorn jumped out to the beach. He ran all the way up to the hut.

"Floki!" he yelled, "FLOKI!"

The door of the hut opened and a naked woman stepped out into the sun.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"I must speak with Floki", Bjorn said, "Is he here?"

"Helga – Who is it?" Floki asked stepping out of his hut. He was wearing no shirt, only pants.

"My father. He is dying", Bjorn tried to explain. Floki followed him down to the beach in a rush.

Athelstan and Floki were carrying Ragnar with his arms over their shoulders. Lagertha, Sansa and the children followed them.

"Helga, get the garlic and the sage! We will make a paste to heal his wounds", Floki announced, "But first we have to clean them – and the only way to clean them is with fire."

* * *

The great hall was filled with people for the feast. To most it would have seemed as just another feast in the hall, but Earl Haraldson was especially happy. This might have been the day of his victory over Ragnar Lothbrok.

The Earl's daughter, Thyri, was sitting next to her father, chatting with one of her friends. She was a beautiful brunette, with a gorgeous smile and a slender body.

Suddenly, the room when quiet. A stranger had entered the hall. He was an old man, round from many years of feasting and drinking. He had a red face as if he was very appreciative of a cup of Ale. Or more than one cup. He wore a fur-trimmed hat and a fur-trimmed cloak. He approached the Earl's table.

"We must welcome our guest", Earl Haraldson declared.

"You could have told me that we were expecting guests", Siggy murmured to her husband.

"This is Earl Bjarni", Earl Haraldson introduced the guest, "He is a svear. These are my wife Siggy and my daughter, Thyri."

Earl Bjarni eyed Thyri carefully. "You are right, my Lord Haraldson. She is very pretty." He said.

"Feast with us", Earl Haraldson invited him, "Sit over there, than you can get to know each other better." He indicated the chair next to his daughter.

"Forgive me, my love", Siggy said, "But why should they get to know each other _better_?"

"Because they're being married", Earl Haraldson stated.

The reaction was obvious. Siggy's face fell and Thyri quickly turned towards her father.

"It's arranged", Earl Haraldson stated.

"Don't worry, my dear child", Earl Bjarni said to Thyri, "I will make you a good husband and you will provide me with many sons - I am certain."

"The wedding will be later this year, when I will return, laden with gifts", Earl Bjarni announced, "In the meantime I hope you will accept this as a token of my affection." He pulled a golden ring out of one of his pockets. When Thyri refused to answer, he gently took her hand and placed the ring on her finger.

"What do you say, Thyri?" Earl Haraldson wanted to know.

"Thank you, Lord, you are very… kind", she answered hesitatingly.

* * *

The blade was glowing red in the dark of Floki's hut. Floki held it, judging the heat by its color. He decided it was right. Floki went to where Ragnar was lying lifeless on the floor.

"Give it to me", Lagertha asked him. He handed her the blade.

"I dedicate this blade to the goddess, to Freyja. Wisdom might you give us, Freyja, and healing hands while we live." Lagertha prayed.

"Hail to the Aesir!" Bjorn said.

"Please Freyja, help my father!" Gyda begged.

Lagertha pressed the red-glowing blade on Ragnar's wounds. A smell of burnt flesh filled the room.

"There is a season for every matter under the sun. A time to be born and a time to die. A time to plant and a time to pluck up what is planted. A time to kill and a time to heal." Athelstan said, "Mary, mother of god, do not let this man die."

Ragnar groaned and Floki started filling the wounds with the paste he had made of the herbs.

* * *

They had been at Floki's hut for weeks now and winter was setting in. Sansa realized that it had been already a long time since she had been captured from this monastery where littlefinger had placed her. Considering that she might very well have ended up in the slaver's bay, she thought herself lucky, even hiding in Floki's hut. She could only hope that the winter was going to be a short one. After all, Floki's supplies were highly limited. And there were six extra persons now living in the household.

Bjorn was just outside the hut, chopping firewood, when a man approached him. He was wearing the hood of his cloak covering his face. He had a bow in his hand and carried two throwing axes on his belt. He also had two dead rabbits dangling from his belt.

"Is it true?" he asked, "Is he here?"

When they entered the hut, Floki looked up. "Thorstein!" he enthused.

Thorstein pulled his hood down and stepped next to Ragnar, lying in his bed.

"Ragnar, my friend", Thorstein greeted him, "How are you?"

"Save me from these people", Ragnar asked smiling.

"He is still very weak", Sansa explained, "But his wounds have begun to heal." Sansa knelt down next to Ragnar and began to reapply the bandage to one of his wounds.

"He's alive", Lagertha said, "Thanks to Floki's magic."

"How did you know I was here?" Ragnar demanded to know.

"I didn't", Thorstein answered, "It was Rollo who said, if you were alive, you might be here."

"Then we did he not come himself?" Ragnar asked.

"He thought he may be followed", Thorstein explained, "It is no secret that all of the crew are being watched. But I made sure no one was following me."

* * *

The celebrations in the great hall was right underway. Earl Haraldson's gaze set upon his daughter in her white dress, whirling around on the dancefloor with her new husband.

Rollo entered the room. Snowflakes were coming in with him through the open door. Nearly everyone in the hall recognized him. Looks were cast in his direction as he made his way through the crowd. Although she was dancing, Thyri's eyes followed him. Then Earl Haraldson's eyes caught him. He stood up and met Rollo halfway.

"I don't remember inviting you to my daughter's wedding", the Earl said.

"Oh, I had assumed you had just forgotten to do so", Rollo replied, "I came anyway."

"That could have been you, dancing with my daughter" Earl Haraldson reminded him.

"I know. I often think about it. Still I was not fated to marry your daughter", Rollo answered, "Maybe that old man was."

"What do you want?" Earl Haraldson asked impatiently.

"We need to talk." Rollo declared.

"Later", the Earl said.

Earl Haraldson returned to his table. After a short moment, Svein called the room to silence.

"It is time for the husband and wife to go to the matrimonial chamber", Earl Haraldson announced. Most of the guests cheered loudly.

The freshly wed couple left the room, followed by many of the guests. Earl Haraldson went over to Rollo.

"What do you want to talk about?" he asked.

"I want no more thugs like these two following me around", Rollo declared, "It's a waste of everyone's time."

"Oh I disagree", the Earl said, "If you lead them to Ragnar Lothbrok it will be time well spent."

"Ragnar is dead", Rollo stated.

"Are you sure?" the Earl asked, "Will you swear that on your arm ring?"

"I cannot swear to it, because I haven't seen the body", Rollo said, "But it has been weeks, since I last heard from him. And he is my brother. I am sure in my heart, he is dead."

"But how could I trust you, since you have betrayed me before?" the Earl doubted him.

"I haven't betrayed you", Rollo disagreed, "I was just telling the truth. Wouldn't you trust a man who is telling the truth?"

"And what is the truth?" the Earl demanded to know.

"The truth is, you run everything here. You own the ships, you decide where we raid. I need to be a part of that", Rollo argued, "It's what I was born to do."

"Well, you will understand that it will take time to earn my trust", the Earl answered, "And I give my trust not easy. But you can stay here, eat at my expense, work on my boats, prepare for the season. And then, we will see. Agreed?"

"Agreed." Rollo smiled.

* * *

On the cold evenings, now that winter was close, it had become a custom in Floki's hut to share stories about the gods. Athelstan was eager to ask for stories which both he and Sansa eagerly listened. They heard about the gods and their halls and how the earth was created from the body of the giant Ymir. How Odin hanged himself and how he sacrificed his eye for knowledge. How Thor fished for the serpent Yormungandr and how Tyr sacrificed his arm as bait to capture the cruel Fenrir.

In the meantime, Ragnar's health was improving, although Lagetha still would not let him get up from his bed for longer periodes.

* * *

In Kattegat, Rollo made sure, no one was following him. He looked around once more and entered the door of a small house. Inside, a woman was waiting for him. She came out of the shadows and Rollo kissed her eagerly.

"Siggy", he sighed when they broke apart.

"I've come to warn you", she answered, "You must leave at once. My husband hates you."

"He has shown me nothing but respect since I got here", Rollo replied.

"Rollo, believe me – go!" she urged him before she kissed him gently goodbye.

Later that day, Rollo was wandering around the streets of Kattegat. A big man stepped into his way, holding a club in his hand. Rollo stopped in his tracks. Behind him several others closed in. They started hitting him with their clubs. Rollo fought back with his fists, leaving bruises and broken bones on his attackers but eventually he had to give in. The world went black before his eyes.

* * *

Rollo awoke when a bucket of cold water was splashed over his face. He needed a few seconds to realize his situation. His chest was bare, his hands and wrists were cuffed to a table which was standing in the back of Kattegat's great hall. Standing next to him were Earl Haraldson, Svein, Siggy and several of the Earl's warriors.

"Where is Ragnar Lothbrok?" the Earl asked.

"He is dead", Rollo replied.

"Are you sure?" the Earl wanted to know, "You said that you always told the truth."

Rollo refused to answer.

"You seem to have a little problem opening your mouth?" the Earl asked in mock concern, "Perhaps I can be of help?"

Svein drew a dagger and handed it to Earl Haraldson. The Earl took it and neared Rollo's face. The blood started streaming as the blade cut deeply into the prisoner's face.

* * *

In Floki's hut, Gyda was watching her mother change the bandages on her father's back.

"When will he be better?" the girl asked.

"It is taking too long already", Ragnar complained.

"In a few weeks' time, your father's wounds will have healed", Lagertha explained, " _if_ he is careful."

"You must have patience, father", Bjorn added.

" _You must have patience, father_ ", Ragnar mocked, "Shut up."

Sansa could barely suppress a giggle, when the door burst open. Floki was carrying Thorstein who was completely wet and shivering from the cold.

"I found him wandering around the marshes", Floki explained.

"I was lost", Thorstein told them.

Sansa and Bjorn quickly made room next to the fire, so Thorstein could warm himself up. After a few minutes, he began to talk.

"I was visited in great secrecy by Earl Haraldson's wife, Siggy", Thorstein began, "She told me that her husband had played a trick on Rollo and imprisoned him. He tried to find out where you are. Then he tortured him. She is sure her husband means to kill Rollo, because he will in no way admit to where you are."

"He tortured my brother?" Ragnar asked. Thorstein only nodded.

"It's a trap for you, Ragnar", Floki warned.

Ragnar stood up from the fire, his mind deep in thoughts. He opened the door and looked out into the rain for several minutes. He tried to raise his wounded arm as high as he could without pain. Then he made his decision.

"Floki", he began, "I have another favor to ask you."

"I want you to go into Kattegat", Ragnar explained, "I want you to ask for a meeting with the Earl. And when you meet him, challenge him to a personal combat with me. Tell him if he refuses, shame will stalk him for the rest of his life and Odin will never permit him into Valhalla."

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 _A/N: Ragnar is going to fight the Earl... is that a good idea still so badly wounded?  
_

 _In case you haven't heard yet, History channel already renewed Vikings for a fifth Season, coming Winter 2017... that's fantastic!_

 ** _I wish you all a Happy Easter!_**

 _Don't forget to review!_


	6. Burial of the Dead

_A/N This is set in Game of Thrones after the purple wedding. Sansa is rescued by littlefinger and brought to a safe place.  
_

 _Vikings fans should be able to guess where we stand in the Vikings timeline... it's Season 1.  
_

 _Westerosi Language is the same as old English, for the sake of the story. Otherwise it would be too much time spent, learning all the languages from scratch.  
_

 _Sansa is 15 years old at the time of the purple wedding in my approach to the story (I am not sure how old she actually was in the episode, but 15 will work here)._

 _To those who are not familiar with the books of 'A Song of Fire and Ice': The second book is titled 'A Clash of Kings'._

 ** _A big thank you to those who reviewed! And to those who subscribed as well...  
_**

 ** _Reply to_** _**HolyCheesus:  
**_

 _Thank you for your review. Considering that English is not my first language, this is a high praise._

 _As to staying close to the Vikings plot, I'll freely admit to this fact. When I began to write, I had a certain idea of the scenes and social dynamics during the later seasons of Vikings, with Sansa as a crossover character (I'll not yet tell how, but feel free to take a guess...). But I also wanted to stay pretty close to canon, so the only way I saw at the time was to begin during Season 1 of Vikings. I even considered cutting Athelstan out, and replace him completely by Sansa, but he is too important for the main plot... so I have two characters that experience almost the same, at the same time. That leaves awfull little 'on-screen time' for Sansa...  
_

 _As for not raiding Sansa's home country, I would say Ragnar considers her a noble Englishwoman... After all she speaks the same language as Athelstan and looks just like everyone else in England. I also wanted Sansa not to know the way from England to Westeros - if you remember, she was brought to a secret place in the first chapter, no one except for littlefinger and his ship's crew would know the way..._

 _What is also troubling, the original Vikings episodes, that were the basis for the last chapters are action-heavy, with not a lot of dialogue (or at least none, where Sansa would fit in). It's far easier to create such a battle in a TV show, where you can just add another character on screen. If you try writing it, the more action-minded characters will inevitably take a higher proportion. But if you read closely, Sansa is there as well, at least as important to care for the wounded Ragnar as Lagertha. But as it is in the TV episode, Lagertha and Ragnar do have a lot more on-screen time than Athaelstan for example, simply because the others are following them._

 _In any case, keep reading, Sansa will get more important as we approach the end of Season 1, and the beginning of Season 2 of Vikings..._

* * *

 _Ragnar and his family are still hiding at Floki's...  
_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

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 **Chapter 6 Burial of the dead**

Earl Haraldson was sitting in his high chair in the great hall, managing the daily life in the town. Suddenly, there was a lot of activity at the door, when two of the Earl's warriors came in, holding a giggling man between them.

"What is this?" Svein, the steward, asked.

"My lord, this man says he has a message for you from Ragnar Lothbrok" one of the warriors explained.

"Let go of him", the Earl ordered. The warriors released the man and he stood giggling beside them.

"What is the message?" Earl Haraldson asked.

"Ragnar Lothbrok challenges you to meet him in single combat", Floki said. Everyone in the room held his breath.

"Ragnar Lothbrok has a very high opinion of himself", Svein mocked.

"After all, he is a descendant from Odin", Earl Haraldson added, smiling.

"Ragnar said, if you refused, shame would follow you for the rest of your life", Floki argued.

"There would be greater shame in accepting a challenge from a criminal", the Earl stated, "It would suggest that I take him seriously."

"The challenge is declined!" Svein announced loudly, "When Ragnar Lothbrok arrives in Kattegat, he will be put in chains."

Earl Haraldson had been sitting on his chair silently, his mind in deep thoughts. Suddenly he stood up.

"Tell Ragnar Lothbrok that I accept his challenge", he said to Floki.

* * *

In Floki's hut, almost everyone was asleep. Ragnar and Lagertha were both awake, making love underneath their furs.

"Ragnar", Lagertha said, "Let's leave here. There are other places for us."

"He is old. What are you afraid of?" Ragnar asked.

"You can't fight", she insisted, "You are too weak."

"Perhaps that makes us equal", Ragnar answered, kissing her neck and shoulder.

"Never fight until you know the odds are in your favor", Lagertha argued, "That is our way."

"Who sets the odds?" Ragnar wanted to know, "What happens tomorrow is already fated."

"You don't believe that", Lagertha meant, "And neither do I."

"You're wrong. I do believe it." Ragnar answered, stroking the tears out of his wife's face.

* * *

In the Great Hall, Earl Haraldson was not able to find sleep himself. He kept staring into the night. He could not help himself, he kept thinking about his sons, who had been brutally murdered. How they would look today? Would they be like Ragnar Lothbrok? He hated to admit it, but he respected the man. He was everything Earl Haraldson had been once, restless, ambitious, driven and with just enough luck. And after all he had been right about the lands to the west, all those years when he told the stories he had believed in. Then he had finally taken the matter into his own hands and proven all these stories to be true.

Yet, the Earl would never be able to admit his utmost respect for Ragnar Lothbrok publicly. Or even join forces with him. The moment, when he admitted his fault, would be the moment, his friends and supporters would have begun to support Ragnar and desert him. The only thing he could do, was to finally kill Ragnar.

* * *

In the guest room of the great hall, Earl Bjarni laid in his bed, panting. Thyri was lying next to him.

"I'm sure that is our first child", the old Earl said, "Now go and fetch me some pickled herrings, I'm starving."

"I don't like the smell of them in the bed", Thyri argued, "It's as bad as it is in the clothes. Why can't you just wash like everyone else?"

"I thought, a wife wasn't supposed to nag her husband until they've grown old and weary of each other", the old man commented, "If you don't fetch me some herrings, I will beat you! It will make you show a little live when we have sex in any case."

"Very well, I'll go", Thyri gave in. She sat up in the bed and tugged her dress in place, before she stood up.

"I can't wait for tomorrow", Earl Bjarni said, "Personal Combat is always thrilling. Who is this Ragnar Lothbrok? I've heard many people talk about him."

"I don't talk about him", Thyri said icily, "He's my father's enemy."

* * *

Floki, Helga, Sansa and Athelstan had left for Kattegat early in the morning. Only Ragnar and his family were still in the hut at the shipyard. Ragnar was wearing a leather jerkin, with metal studs sewn onto it for additional protection. Finally Ragnar sat up from the bed. He smiled at his children and the whole family embarked in the small fishing boat.

They rowed the boat along the fjord, until they reached the town of Kattegat. They tied the small boat to the pier, and walked towards the main place. On their way, they encountered Sansa and Athelstan.

"Don't look so worried, you two", Ragnar encouraged them. He walked on till they had reached the main place where the fight would be hold.

Sansa took in the scenery. She had not been in the main town of Kattegat since her arrival. It was obvious this was a major attraction. Seemingly everyone was present. Floki had begun to tell her about all the different people. Siggy, the Earl's wife was standing proudly on the side of the place. Next to her, tall and beautiful, her daughter Thyri, standing beside her husband. He was an Earl from Svearland, the wedding was only about a week over, as Floki had told her. Many of the others Sansa recognized as the men that were Ragnar's friends and companions. Thorstein, who had provided them with news from the town. Rollo, Ragnar's older brother, his face scarred from the tortures Earl Haraldson had bestowed on him. Arne, the one-eyed Archer and Scout, who had participated in taking her captive. Leif, next to his mother Elisef, the son and widow of Erik Maarten, who had been killed as the Earl's warriors had tried to attack Ragnar after his trial.

The crowd parted and Earl Haraldson entered the place. He was followed by Svein. Haraldson and Ragnar faced each other.

"This is a personal combat", Svein announced loudly, "The combatants can choose any weapon or shield they desire. Each combatant has two shields. If both are broken, there can be no further replacements."

Ragnar and Haraldson were each handed their swords, and a shield. They faced each other, then the Earl threw his shield to the ground, where it was picked up by one of his warriors. Another warrior handed him another shield. Ragnar followed his example. They had both resigned their first shields, if these were now broken, they would have to fight without shields.

Ragnar waited for a moment, then he launched his attack. Earl Haraldson stepped back, several of Ragnar's blows hit his shield. The Earl raised his sword to block and Ragnar's sword hit the opposing blade. Haraldson began his attack, which was deflected by Ragnar's shield. The Earl struck another mighty overhead chop and Ragnar could raise his shield just in time. He stumbled back, his wounded leg trembling from exhaustion.

Ragnar struck his opponent's sword with his own and punched the Earl with his shields. Haraldson stepped back and Ragnar followed him. Finally, Ragnar struck the Earl's shield heavily with his sword. The sword's blade cracked and flew from his hand.

Next to Sansa, Lagertha closed her eyes in resignation. Gyda grabbed Sansa's hand anxiously. Bjorn refused to look away. Sansa could feel that the fight was coming to its end, and it was not the one they had hoped for. On the opposing side of the audience, the Earl's supporters were cheering.

Ragnar looked down at his broken sword for a moment, then back at the Earl. He punched the Earl with his shield until both shields were broken into pieces. Finally, the Earl was holding his sword and no shield anymore. Ragnar was standing opposite of him, nothing in his hands but the broken piece of his sword. Ragnar tossed the useless piece of metal to the ground, followed shortly by the Earl tossing his sword.

One of his warriors handed the Earl a one-handed axe, while Ragnar walked back to the rack where his weapons lay ready and chose a similar axe.

"Father you can do it!" Bjorn cheered him on.

"Fight, Ragnar!" Floki yelled.

Ragnar walked in front of the Earl, this time waiting for the attack to come. The Earl lunged forward, his axe raised. Ragnar ducked and the axe only cut through the air. Ragnar stumbled back a few steps, then launched an attack of his own. The Earl blocked the chop, tried to attack and Ragnar defended again. The Earl's axe head was right in front of Ragnar's throat. Haraldson used both his hands trying to push it into his opponent's neck. Ragnar had his free hand around the handle, trying to disarm the Earl.

Finally, the tension broke the two apart. They both tumbled back a few steps, before Haraldson brought his axe right back in front of Ragnar's chest. Ragnar was barely able to stop the blow from burying in his chest. They both pushed until Ragnar's fist struck the Earl in the face. Ragnar tried to follow up with a chop from his axe, instead Haraldson deflected the blow and hit Ragnar's shoulder with his axe.

Ragnar tumbled, back, holding his shoulder. Blood was running from the wound and Ragnar seemed distracted.

Sansa realized she was holding her breath when her head became light. She immediately took in another deep breath. Gyda had buried her face in Sansa's dress, clutching the older girl's hand strongly. Lagertha tried to suppress tears streaming from her eyes. Thyri and Siggy were enthusiastic, victory before their eyes.

Ragnar and Haraldson circled each other, then the Earl launched another attack. Ragnar somehow managed to avoid the angry blows the Earl threw at him. Finally Haraldson grabbed his jacket, his axe close to Ragnar's head. With his last strength, Ragnar's hand stopped the final blow. Ragnar ducked and his axe hit the Earl in the lower back.

He whole crowd went silent as the blade dug into the Earl's flesh. Slowly, the older man collapsed at Ragnar's feet. Ragnar stood over the dying man when he saw a raven sitting on the crane on the pier. He dropped to his knees next to the Earl.

"Lord, Odin is here", he said to the dying man, "waiting to see which one of us he will take to his great hall."

"So I shall dine at the high table of the Aesir after all", the Earl murmured. Ragnar took his hand and used his axe to cut the Earl's wrist. Blood spilled from the wound and Siggy came running forward.

"NO!" She yelled, "NOOO!" She pushed Ragnar aside, putting her fingers onto her husband's wrist, trying to stop the bleeding. Haraldson plucked her fingers away from his wound.

"Tonight I shall be drinking with our boys", he said, before he closed his eyes for the last time.

Svein was not going to let Ragnar win this day. He turned to the Earl's warriors. "Kill him", he ordered. They only looked blankly at him. By tradition the winner of the combat against the Earl had the best claim to be the next Earl.

Rollo took an axe from the weapon's rack and walked towards Svein. With anger, he buried the axe deep in Svein's chest. The steward collapsed to the ground, his face showing the surprise that someone had dared to kill him.

Siggy stopped crying when Svein collapsed. She took a moment to consider then walked over to her daughter, who handed her a knife. Without hesitation, Siggy stabbed it into Earl Bjani's kidneys. The old man's face showed his pain as he collapsed. Then Siggy dropped the knife and walked over to the middle of the place where Ragnar was still kneeling next to her deceased husband.

"Hail, Earl Ragnar", she said, then louder, "HAIL, EARL RAGNAR!"

She dropped to her knees and everyone else followed her example. "HAIL, Earl Ragnar!" they chorused.

* * *

Everyone had assembled in the great hall, awaiting the further developments of the day. Sansa and Athelstan were standing among Ragnar's friends, waiting for him. The door opened and Ragnar entered, his wounded leg supported by a wooden crutch. He was followed by his wife and children. Ragnar slowly walked along the fireplace, and stopped in front of the high seat. He looked at the seat questioningly, then turned towards the crowd.

"Take it!" they shouted, one after the other. Ragnar exchanged a glance with Rollo, who nodded slightly. He then turned towards the chair and sat down. The whole room was cheering loudly as their new Earl accepted his position.

Leif stepped forward, exposed his arm ring and dropped to his knees.

"Lord Ragnar", he began, "I pledge my allegiance and fealty to you and your family from this day forward."

"Leif, you are my friend", Ragnar answered smiling, "And you, One-Eye, and you, Thorstein. You are my friends."

Next, an old man stepped forward. His beard was white and braided, his head was shaven bald.

"What is your name?" Ragnar asked.

"Tostig, Lord Ragnar", the man answered.

"Tostig, do you swear allegiance and fealty, to me and to my family from this day forward?" Ragnar wanted to know.

"It won't be so long then", Rollo joked. Everyone in the hall laughed

"By my sacred ring, I swear", Tostig answered, "But I also have a favor to ask, Lord Ragnar."

"What is this favor?" Ragnar inquired.

"That the next time you go raiding to England, you take me with you", the old man answered.

"I do not wish to insult you", Ragnar said carefully, "But the truth is…"

"That I am too old" Tostig laughed, "Yes, I am old. But I have been a warrior all my life. Many years I sailed with Lord Haraldson and fought battles against the Eastlanders. And I saw all the companions of my youth die. And although I fought with them in the shield wall, not once was I touched by a blade. All of the friends of my youth are gone, feasting and drinking with the gods. That is why I beg you, Lord, gift me the chance to die with honor in battle and join them in Valhalla."

Ragnar stood up from his chair, supported by the wooden stick.

"This summer, we shall have more ships to go west, for that is our future", he announced, "Let's take him with us! All in favor?"

A loud cheer filled the hall as the inhabitants of Kattegat agreed. Tostig stood up, a happy smile on his face. Next Rollo stepped forward.

"There is no need for you to swear", Ragnar said, "You have already paid a heavy prize for your loyalty to me." He touched the fresh scars on Rollo's face, where the Earls knife had cut into his flesh.

"Nevertheless, I will swear, brother", Rollo replied, "I swear to be true to you, your wife and your family – as long as your good fortune holds", he ended smiling. The two brothers hugged each other and Rollo murmured into Ragnar's ear, "How are we ever going to be equal now, my brother?"

* * *

A week later, the pier of Kattegat was filled with activity. Some of the men were piling dry wood on one of the longboats. Everyone around was drinking and having fun. Competitions were hold, archery and wrestling, boxing and throwing knifes. Musicians were playing at every corner, the whole town was cheerful.

Sansa was standing on the deck next to the great hall, overlooking the crowd. She awoke from her daydreaming when Ragnar stepped beside her.

"Why have you agreed to grant Earl Haraldson such a big funeral?" Sansa asked, "Was he not your enemy?"

"He was", Ragnar agreed, "But he was also a great man. You win renown in this life and you deserve a great funeral to celebrate your achievements."

He took a closer look at her. "Why are you so unhappy? Today we celebrate his live and his achievements, there is no need to be unhappy", he said.

Sansa could not help herself, tears glistened in her eyes. "I believe I told you before that my family is dead?" she asked. Ragnar nodded.

"Well, my father was a lord, the king's first advisor. When the old king died, there was a dispute between the king's son, Joffrey and two of the kings brother's, Stannis and Renly", Sansa told Ragnar, "My father supported Stannis, so Joffrey incarcerated him for treason. He said he would show mercy to my father if he admitted his fault and recognized Joffrey as his rightful king. My father did not want to, but eventually, he gave in. He admitted his wrongdoing and Joffrey had him executed nevertheless. Then he put his head on a spear and forced me to watch it rot."

"That's cruel. Why were you spared?" Ragnar wanted to know.

"I was engaged to Joffrey at the time", Sansa replied, "A deal my father had struck with Joffrey's father. I wish, someone had done for any of my family what you are doing for him."

"I am sorry, that your family is dead", Ragnar told her, "But there is nothing that can change that now. So don't be so sad anymore." Sansa wiped her tears from her face and tried to smile.

Athelstan was wandering around in Kattegat. He could not believe what Ragnar had told him, about the slave girl chosen as a sacrifice in honor of the deceased Earl. He ran into Bjorn. "You need a drink, priest", the boy told him.

The procession was led by Arne and Thorstein who carried their shields and used clubs to hammer a rhythm that sounded over the whole town. Behind them, several warriors carried the stretcher with Earl Haraldson. They were followed by Siggy and Thyri, both clad in their finest robes. They placed the body on the pyre, and Siggy and Thyri placed their offerings to the gods next to him. Then they stepped back from the longboat, for the last time decorated in the black and red which had served as Earl Haraldson's sign.

The slave-girl, who had volunteered to die had now reached the pier. She was clad in a fine but thin dress. She had jewelry on her arms and a golden chain around her neck. She was already awaited by the woman, called the 'Angel of Death'. The slave handed over the jewelry and the necklace, then received a cup from the priestess. She nervously eyed the cup for a second, then drank the poisonous liquid.

"I can see my master", she exclaimed, "He is in Valhalla! He calls me – Let me join him then!"

The slave handed the cup back to the priestess and the priestess drew a sharp skinning knife. She held the blade against the slave's throat and cut it with a single slash. The girl bled out quickly and her body was then placed next to the Earl's body.

Everyone looked up when Thorstein blew into his horn. "Hail, Earl Ragnar Lothbrok!" He announced. Ragnar, still supported by his stick, entered the pier, where the ship was tied. He was flanked by Lagertha and followed by Bjorn and Gyda. They all wore better clothes than before, fitting their new position. The audience cheered as they saw their new Earl. Drinking horns and cups filled with Ale were raised, everyone wishing the best to their new leader.

Siggy stepped forward. As she reached Ragnar, the crowd went silent. "I ask permission to light the fire", she said. Ragnar smiled and grabbed a burning torch from the fire next to him. When Siggy wanted to reach for it, he handed the torch to one of the warriors from the town. Siggy was staring at Ragnar for a moment, as if she was trying to force him to give her the torch. After a few seconds she backed down and stepped back. Ragnar nodded to the warrior, whom he had handed the torch and the man walked along the pier towards the ship. When he was close enough, he tossed the torch onto the pyre on the ship.

The dry wood began to burn immediately. Men cut the boat loose from the pier and pushed it into the stream, so it would be taken out of the fjord, if it didn't burn before. The flames quickly encased the bodies and spread all over the ship's interior. The audience watched in silence, only Floki could not completely suppress a giggle.

"I have something important to tell you, husband", Lagertha murmured, "I am with child again."

Ragnar dropped to his knees, his head in front of Lagertha's belly. "I know you're a boy", he said, "You have made me a happy man today, my son."

* * *

Siggy and Thyri dared not to make any light as they packed their treasures. They had decided to leave the town, while it was still dark. They were both so concentrated, that neither one of them saw the man standing in the shadow behind them.

They were both startled when he made a noise and turned to face him.

"Have you come to kill us?" Siggy asked anxiously.

"Why would I do that?" the man in the dark responded.

"Because Ragnar told you so", Siggy answered, "It is often how a new Earl deals with the family of the old."

"Ragnar won't have you killed. My brother doesn't hold grudges", Rollo said, stepping forward, "He's strange that way."

"Even if we don't die, they would still shun us like a bad smell", Siggy insisted, "It is better we leave now."

"No one will shun you", Rollo objected, "They wouldn't dare. Not if I vouch for you."

"And what would you want in return?" Siggy desired to know.

"You were once married to an Earl", Rollo said, "Wouldn't you like to be married to another one?"

"Who do you mean?" Siggy asked confused.

"Me", Rollo answered smiling.

* * *

The winter had finally arrived in Kattegat. Snow covered the paths and the roofs, the bay was frozen. Most of the inhabitants of the town stayed inside for most of the day. Sansa was sitting in the great hall, sewing on a dress she made for Lagertha. Lagertha, now heavily pregnant, was braiding Gyda's hair. Bjorn was feeding the pigs which had been brought inside because it was too cold in the shed.

"The pigs are fattening nicely", Bjorn said to his father.

"So is your mother", Ragnar replied happily.

Bjorn clutched his arms around his chest. "It's cold – even in here", he said. Ragnar took a blanket form a pile and hung it around his son's shoulders.

"I can't wait for the spring – I want to go to England", Bjorn said enthusiastically.

"No", Ragnar said.

"But why?" Bjorn protested.

"Because I said so", Ragnar replied, "Don't be too eager to put yourself in danger."

"But you cannot alter my fate", the boy disagreed.

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 _A/N: Back to England in the next chapter..._

 _Will Bjorn be able to persuade him to let him come?  
_

 _Don't forget to review!_


	7. A King's Ransom

_A/N This is set in Game of Thrones after the purple wedding. Sansa is rescued by littlefinger and brought to a safe place.  
_

 _Vikings fans should be able to guess where we stand in the Vikings timeline... it's Season 1.  
_

 _Westerosi Language is the same as old English, for the sake of the story. Otherwise it would be too much time spent, learning all the languages from scratch.  
_

 _Sansa is 15 years old at the time of the purple wedding in my approach to the story (I am not sure how old she actually was in the episode, but 15 will work here)._

 _To those who are not familiar with the books of 'A Song of Fire and Ice': The second book is titled 'A Clash of Kings'._

 ** _A big thank you to those who reviewed!  
_**

 _Ragnar is the new Earl and is leading his men back to England...  
_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

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 **Chapter 7 A King's Ransom**

The three ships sailed calmly along the river. It was a warm day in June, the sails were not used. Instead, the crews rowed the boats steadily forward. Ragnar and Rollo stood on the deck, watching the landscape pass. It consisted mostly of woods, an occasional farm and a few small children watching the strange ships curiously from the banks of the river.

* * *

In the royal villa, King Aelle was fuming. He had just received the news of the returning northmen.

"These northmen – where did they come ashore?" the King asked.

"They didn't", the messenger answered, "they came in three ships. And these ships are now sailing up the Tyne."

"They have ships that can cross the open sea and also sail up rivers", the King said, "What manner of men are these? Whoever they are, they are not welcome in my kingdom."

* * *

Two days later, a rider approached the city, followed by several other warriors on horses.

"Make way!" he yelled and the peasants spread to the sides. He rode in a high speed till he reached the entrance of the royal villa. He dismounted from his horse and entered the villa.

The throne room was empty when he entered. "BROTHER!" he yelled, waiting for an answer.

"Aethelwulf?" he heard someone say behind him. He turned around and saw his brother, the king of Northumbria stand in the door.

"I am glad you came", King Aelle stated.

"You never thought I wouldn't?" Aethelwulf replied.

"No, I never doubted you. But others…" Aelle said, "Our own little brother has fled to Mercia."

"He was always the runt of the litter", Aethelwulf agreed, "Our parents should have drowned him at birth. So, where are the heathens now?"

"One, perhaps two days away", Aelle answered.

"We have to stop them", Aethelwulf stated.

"And there is no better man for that task than you, Lord Aethelwulf", one of the members of the court said, "The poets sing your battle praises."

"That is because I paid them", Aethelwulf replied laughing, "If you paid them, they'd sing your praises, too." Everyone in the room laughed, except for the queen.

"Mylady, no time for laughter?" Aethelwulf asked her.

"No, my lord Aethelwulf, only for fear", she answered.

* * *

At the Viking camp, everyone was busy. The tents had been set up, and the men were preparing defenses. They used logs, one end in the earth, the other pointing outward. Rollo was cutting away at one of the logs with a hatchet, making the end sharp.

"How soon will they come?" he asked.

"I hope soon", Tostig added, "I can't wait for Valhalla."

* * *

In the great hall at Kattegat, Lagertha was occupying the high chair in her husband's absence. Her children were sitting on smaller chairs to her right. A couple, the woman carrying a baby, entered the hall and stood before them.

"Good day to you, folk", Lagertha greeted them, "What is the problem?"

"The problem is her", the man said angrily.

"What has she done?" Lagertha inquired.

"She's had a child. The boy in her arms – he's not my son!" the man spat out. Some in the audience laughed.

"Just over a year, a young man came to visit us", the man told the story, "He said his name was Rig. He gave us some good advice on our work and then stayed the night. And nine months later, she gave birth to a son!"

"Whose child is it?" Lagertha asked the crying woman.

"I don't know, Mylady", the woman cried, "we were all in the same bed."

"You see! She is not an honest woman! She had sex with Rig and wouldn't tell me the truth!" the man accused her.

"Do you know who this Rig was?" Lagertha wanted to know. Both shook their heads.

"We know from our ancient stories, that Rig is another name for Heimdall, the god" Lagertha told them, "You should have never doubted your wife for the joy she has brought you, and the fact that a god chose you, of all people to visit. Now go and be happy with your wife. Sacrifice one of your animals to Heimdall. But if I hear that you have harmed this woman or this child, you will answer for that to me!"

* * *

The northumbrian riders were hidden beneath the last outskirts of the forest. Lord Aethelwulf, their commander was right up front. He took a careful look over the camp.

"Let's attack", one of his men proposed.

"They have a strong position", Aethelwulf replied, "Maybe we can make them leave their position and attack us."

"How would we do that?" another one of the men asked.

"They're scavengers, little more than beasts", Aethelwulf explained, "We must be able to outthink them."

"But if we wait, they'll be even better dug in", one of the soldiers objected.

"My lord, if a wolf comes into your sheep hold, you don't try to outthink it", another man urged, "You drive it away. Or kill it."

"How dare you argue with me?" Aethelwulf raged.

"My lord, forgive us", another soldier tried to calm him, "we were just thinking…"

"I know what you were thinking", Aethelwulf cut him short, "You thought you were already greater warriors than I am. But only yesterday you were green, sucking at your mother's breasts."

"Now do your job and set up a camp", Aethelwulf ordered.

* * *

Although they had been concealed, the presence of the riders had not been missed in the camp.

"Have you seen them up there?" Rollo asked, tying together two of the logs which formed the defenses.

"Hmm", Ragnar agreed.

"What are we waiting for?" Rollo urged.

"We can't afford loosing half our men by being stupid and attacking", Ragnar explained, "We wait till the odds are in our favor."

* * *

Night had fallen upon both camps. The saxon soldiers were asleep, except for the guards. No one saw the Vikings approach them and cut them down quickly. The northmen took torches from the fires and quickly spread throughout the camp. The torches flew into the tents and the flames quickly ate on the canvas. Men were stabbed in their sleep, while the northmen still were silent hunters in the dark.

After a few minutes, one of the English soldier finally awoke. "Awake!" he yelled, "We're under attack!" Others, awoken from his cries were soon awake. The northmen walked through the English camp, cutting them down, one by one.

Lord Aethelwulf awoke in his tent as he heard a loud cry "Odin!" He grabbed his sword and was already halfway out of the tent, when he decided, he might need a prayer before battle. He knelt down in front of his makeshift altar and began to pray.

One of his men entered the tent. "Mylord, we're being attacked!" he reported. When he saw his commander deep in his prayer, he turned around and rejoined the battle on his own.

Floki had watched in great amusement as the tents began to burn. Now he was fondling on the rope that was keeping the big tent upright. He finally drew his knife and cut it.

Aethelwulf had just finished his prayer and stood up. He was ready to join his men in the fight, as the tent collapsed over him, burying him deep under the canvas.

As the morning came, the destruction of the English camp was obvious. The few prisoners were herded together. Ragnar looked at the English commander.

"Who are you?" Ragnar asked in English.

Aethelwulf was lost for words for a moment, not expecting a pagan to speak his language.

"I'm Lord Aethelwulf", he finally answered, "Brother of King Aelle."

"You're the brother of a king", Ragnar said, "Yet you lead his army. Does he send you to fight all his battles? Those in the bedroom too?"

"Ragnar, come and see!" Floki called from a few meters away. Ragnar walked over to him, guiding the tied Aethelwulf with him.

"Their iron is stronger and better than ours", Rollo said, trying the handling on one of the captured swords. To prove his point, he hit the wooden post which had carried a torch before. The wood was half as thick as an arm, yet the blade cut through it without much effort.

"We captured a dozen of their horses", Leif told Ragnar, joining the little group.

"I'm hungry already", Floki commented.

Tostig sat down sadly in the grass. "The gods won't lift my curse", he growled, "I am forsaken to live forever on this miserable earth."

"Who is this?" Rollo asked, pointing at Aethelwulf.

"This is the king's brother", Ragnar explained, "What do you say, shall we visit the king?"

* * *

In the throne room, almost everyone was shocked.

"My brother defeated. Dead. God help Northumbria", the king murmured.

"Sire, we don't know for sure if your brother is dead", one of the counsellors reminded him.

"But we do know, mylord, that he was defeated!" King Aelle called. "Why have they come here to plague us?" the king asked desperately.

"Sire, some learned and wise men say they were sent here by god", the bishop spoke up, "To punish us for our many sins and transgressions. For we have departed from the path of righteousness that our lord has set out."

"Forgive me, Sire, but what if these barbarians have not been sent here by god?" another nobleman asked, "If they are rather the work of the devil?"

"So what is your advice?" the king wanted to know.

"As we are facing the forces of Satan, we must resist them at all costs", the nobleman declared, "Even at the cost of all our lives. For evil cannot be tolerated, nor ever bargained with."

"Sire, If I may speak?" a low ranking nobleman spoke up from the far end of the throne room. Aelle nodded. "It might be that these northmen have come here on their own account. That they are neither the work of god nor the devil. They're just savage men, more interested in robbery and plunder than in matters of the spirit."

"So what is your advice then?" the king desired to know.

"Since they come here for gain, let us offer them enough money for them to go away and leave us in peace." He had to shout, to be heard over the roar of outrage, waving through the room.

"Let me think about this for a while", the king said, "In the meantime, I've sent word that more are to be raised for our armies, should we need them."

* * *

The archers on the city's wall had put their arrows on their bows and drawn the strings back, ready to loosen the arrows as the group of riders approached. Everyone could see half a dozen northmen sitting on the horses, as well as a tied man, in a northumbrian soldier's attire.

The gates of the city opened and an envoy was sent out, accompanied by several soldiers.

"King Aelle invites your leader to join him in his villa", the envoy said. When he received no answer he asked, "Who is your leader?"

Still no answer.

"The king did not know that his brother was still alive", the envoy began, "He would like to talk to you about what he can give you to set his brother free. Do you accept the king's invitation?"

Ragnar just laughed and turned his horse around, riding away. The others followed him.

* * *

Back at the camp, they discussed their further plans.

"We should attack, while they are weak", Rollo stated.

"Attack, attack, attack", Ragnar meant, "That is all he ever says. I am curious. I want to know what manner of men they are. I want to see how the king lives – and I am hungry."

"If we enter this town, why should he not just kill us?" Thorstein argued.

"You forget, we hold his brother hostage", Ragnar corrected him.

"Why should he care about his brother?" Rollo asked.

"Do I not care about mine?" Ragnar wanted to know, looking deeply in Rollo's eyes.

* * *

In Kattegat, Lagertha was about to go to bed, when her hand touched her growing belly.

"Gyda, come here", she said. Her daughter, who had just been about to leave the room walked over. Lagertha took her hand and placed it on her belly.

"Can you feel the kick?" Lagertha asked. Sansa smiled as the surprise in the little girl's face showed. Lagertha had noticed the smile.

"You want to feel it as well, Sansa?" Lagertha offered. Sansa looked surprised.

"If I may?" she said shyly and placed her hand next to Gyda's. They had to wait for a few seconds, then they could feel movement under Lagertha's skin.

* * *

The Viking leaders approached the town by horse. They were met by the same envoy as the day before and guided into the town. A crowd had assembled at the main place, everyone wanted to take a look at those foreign devils. Ragnar, Floki, Rollo and the others halted their horses in front of the royal villa and dismounted from the horses. In comparison, they were taller than any of the northumbrians, most at least with a head's difference.

The envoy guided them into the villa and along the corridors to the throne room. They were met by the assembled noblemen of northumbria and the king, sitting on his throne.

"Sire, may I present to you, Earl Ragnar Lothbrok, his brother Rollo and their companions", the envoy said.

"Ragnar Lothbrok. I've heard that name before", the King answered, "We're glad you have decided to talk to us."

Ragnar just smiled and waited, acting as if he did not notice the unfriendly glances, which the noblemen threw at them.

"Sire, maybe you should invite them to eat first?" the envoy suggested.

"Forgive me", King Aelle said, "Let us feast. And then talk."

The tables were already filled with delicious meals, when the group had sat down. They could see pig's head, with olives, steaks, cheese, a feast which it could not be better in the great hall of Kattegat. Since the king had not arrived yet, Ragnar and his group took their seats and waited.

Floki had dived under table, admiring the craftsmanship. "This table is very well made", he said, his fingers feeling the wood and his mind trying to reconstruct the joints and to find the differences to how he would have made it.

"So are the women", Arne whispered to Thorstein. They both sat across the table of two beautiful English noble daughters.

King Aelle arrived in the room, followed by a woman in a grayish-green dress, a girl in her teens and a boy, a little younger than Bjorn.

"Ragnar Lothbrok, may I present to you my wife Ilswith, my daughter Judith and my son, Egbert", the king introduced them.

"Hello", Arne, the one-eyed smiled to the little boy. The boy clutched at his mother's hand.

"Skoll", Leif said, offering the boy his cup, "Drink?"

Ragnar finally greeted him in English, "Hello." However, this was too much for the boy and he buried his face in his mother's dress.

King Aelle and his family went to their places on the table and sat down. Servants handed bread to be placed on the table. Ragnar and his friends, as usual, began to attack the meal right away. At the accusing looks from the English nobles they stopped eating for a moment.

"In the name of the father and the son and of the holy spirit" the bishop said, standing next to the king.

"Amen", everyone in the room chorused. A choir of young men began to sing a Christian song. The northmen listened for a moment in amazement.

"What a terrible noise", Leif commented, "These people are so strange."

Finally the northumbrians began to eat. Floki had in the meantime discovered the plates. Not sure about their purpose, he first tried to bite into them, he smelled them, then he dropped it onto the table. The plate burst into pieces and Floki burst out a giggle. Arne was not far behind him. He put the plate on top of his hands, then lunged his head forward, causing the plate to shatter.

"Stop making me laugh", Ragnar said, "I'm trying to be serious." With a smile he addressed Aelle, "Shall we talk, king?"

"Very well, what do you want for leaving my kingdom? And the safe return of my brother?" the king asked.

"Is he a priest", Ragnar asked, pointing at the bishop.

"He is a bishop of our holy church", Aelle replied, "A man of god."

"I too have a man of god at home", Ragnar smiled, "He is very useful. 2000 pounds."

The English nobles gasped in surprise at the height of the sum.

"How much?" one of them asked.

"2000 pounds", Ragnar repeated.

"I don't think I heard you properly", Aelle said, expecting the northman not daring to repeat his claim loudly.

"2000 pounds", Ragnar shouted, "In weight."

On a nod from one of the noblemen, the guards closed in on the table. Ragnar's friends stood up, their weapons at the ready. Ragnar himself remained seated, munching on a piece of meat.

King Aelle mustered him for a moment, then decided it was better not to risk a massacre at his table. "I agree to your terms", he said "But first you must return my brother."

"When we receive payment, you shall have your brother", Ragnar refused.

"You must give me time to collect such a vast amount of money", Aelle argued, "In the meantime, you and your men will return to your camp and make no further attack on my people or their property."

"Agreed", Ragnar smiled.

One of the noblemen spoke up, "Sire, how can we trust the word of a pagan?"

"Let me baptize one of them", the bishop murmured.

"There is one further condition", Aelle said, "I wish that either you or one of your companions is baptized into our faith. That way I can make peace with a friend and fellow Christian."

"You want one of us to become Christian?" Ragnar asked in surprise.

"Yes", the king insisted. Ragnar translated to his friends who laughed greatly about the offer. All except Rollo. He stood up from the table. "I will be Christian", he said in broken English.

* * *

In Kattegat, Athelstan led Siggy to the back of the great hall. Bjorn and Gyda were playing a game on the table, while Sansa was stitching one of Bjorn's tunics.

"Mylady Lagertha", Athelstan greeted her, "I hope you can find it in your heart to speak to the wife of the late Earl."

"Of course", Lagertha answered, "Come and sit down, Siggy."

"Wait!" Bjorn interrupted, "Earl Haraldson tried to kill my father."

"I know. And if he had succeeded, I would be standing where Siggy is standing now", Lagertha explained, "So what would you like me to do?"

"I would ask her to sit down", Bjorn murmured.

"Well, Siggy, What can I do for you?" Lagertha inquired.

"It is what I can do for you", Siggy replied, "I want to serve you."

"That is not necessary", Lagertha refused.

Athelstan interrupted them, "I remember very well, how I decided to serve the father of my church. And it did me no harm", he told them, "I found in service a great freedom and honor. When I accepted that I should forget about myself and serve father Cuthbert, then I became happy."

Both Lagertha and Siggy stared in surprise at him. Athelstan blushed and turned away.

"If it is really what you want, then I accept your offer", Lagertha said.

Siggy fell to her knees, "Thank you", she gasped.

"You and your daughter are now under my protection", Lagertha explained, "But I will never treat you as a servant."

* * *

The Viking leaders had joined the royal court of northumbria to witness Rollo's baptism. They had met at a river, a short walk outside of the town. Everyone was standing on a small island of gravel, in the middle of the river. Rollo, bare-chested was standing in the water, the bishop and two of his aides next to him.

"Oh lord, almighty and eternal god", the bishop began, "expell the devil and its kin from this person. From the head, from the hair, from the brain, from the brow, from the ears, from the nostrils, from the mouth, from beneath the tongue, from the throat, from the neck, from the chest, from the heart – from the entire interior of the body. From the thought, from the words and from the deeds. In the name of Jesus Christ, our lord!"

"Amen!" the audience chorused.

The bishop indicated the sign of the cross. "I anoint thee in the name of the father, the son and the holy spirit", the bishop called, "Amen!" He laid his hand on top of Rollo's head and guided him down, until he dived under the surface of the water. When Rollo came back up after a second, he spat the water out and whirled his head, covering the bishop in spray.

"I now pronounce you baptized and born again with the new Christian name of Robert", the bishop said, before he hugged Rollo.

As Aelle and the other nothumbrians sank to their knees, Ragnar followed their example. The other northmen followed a little unsure. Floki spat out in anger as he watched the events.

"We have witnessed a true miracle", Aelle declared standing up, "Now I ask you to keep your promises. Return to your ships and await your payment in peace."

* * *

The northmen had returned to their camp. They had nothing to do except to pass the time. Floki was carving a little statue of Odin. Leif, Thorstein and Rollo were gambling.

It was Rollo's turn and he carefully threw the dices. He laughed loudly as he saw the great result.

"Well done, _Robert_ ", Floki said.

"What's your problem, Floki?" Rollo asked.

"Oh, I am not the one with the problem", Floki mused "I did not renounce the gods in front of everyone."

"It was a joke", Rollo explained, "I didn't believe it. I didn't understand a word the old fool was saying."

"It doesn't matter", Floki objected, "Surely you've made them very angry."

"Don't be stupid, Floki", Rollo warned him.

"You're the one who is stupid", Floki argued, "risking the wrath of the gods."

That was too much for Rollo. He angrily stood up and locked eyes with Floki. The boatbuilder just stared back smiling.

"They're here!" Arne called, running through the camp. Everyone got up, running past Rollo and Floki in their staring match. Finally Rollo gave in and followed the others, leaving Floki behind.

On the grass outside the Viking camp, two northumbrian soldiers were working on a heavy cart, laden with chests. They untied the horses and quickly fled, leaving the cart just outside of the Viking camp.

Ragnar sent a couple of warriors to take a look at the cart. They quickly recovered it and began to break the locks open. They were disappointed. Each of the chests was empty.

In this moment, a group of riders came over the ridge behind the cart. The four warriors were quickly taken down. In the camp everyone scrambled for their weapons. Fully armed, they assembled behind Ragnar, forming a wedge. The Vikings were standing exactly behind the breech in the defenses. The riders rushed towards them, hoping the breech would allow them to enter the camp without casualties.

The northmen waited for them to come. The riders had almost reached the breech, as Ragnar lifted his arms, signaling to two of the warriors. These were holding ropes, connected to spikes lying flat on the ground. They pulled on the ropes and the breech in the defenses was closed.

The riders were in full galopp, when the gap closed. They had not the time to stop. Many struck the spiked logs on the defenses, killing horses and men instantly. Horses went crazy and riders were thrown from their backs and soldiers on foot were trampled by their own horses.

The northmen waited for the chaos to spread, then they reopened the breech and came out of the camp. A bloody battle enraged, mostly man to man. Warriors on both sides died and the green grass quickly turned into blood-stained mud.

The old Tostig had just finished one of the English soldiers off, his shield smashing his opponent's face. Another English soldier came from behind him and dug his sword into the old Viking's back. Tostig went down and smiled. "Valhalla", he murmured before closing his eyes for the last time.

The battle was mostly over, wounded and dead from both sides lying in the mud. Rollo went from one to another, killing every English soldier, who was still alive. Finally, he fell to his knees, exhausted.

"How many Christians did I kill, Floki?" he yelled, "How many? Do you think Odin is still angry with me?"

Ragnar went over to the prisoner's. He sat down before Aethelwulf, still encrusted in blood and mud from the battle.

"It seems to me, that your brother, the king, does not care whether you live or die", he stated.

"If you let me talk to him, I'll persuade him to honor his pledge", Aethelwulf offered.

"Why should I not just kill you now?" Ragnar wanted to know, smearing a cross of blood on the prisoner's forehead.

"Then you'll have nothing left to bargain with", Aethelwulf pointed out calmly.

Ragnar smiled and raised his blood-encrusted axe. "I have this", he answered.

* * *

Ragnar was sitting on his horse, waiting outside of the English town. The day before, he had sent back a horse with the lifeless body of Aethelwulf, his throat cut. Now King Aelle had decided to honor his part of the agreement and finally pay the prize.

* * *

"Sansa, something's wrong", Lagertha said, standing next to Sansa on the loom. Lagertha was holding her engorged belly.

"Is it the child?" Sansa asked afraid, "It must be way early."

"Something is wrong, I don't know how", Lagertha stammered, holding her belly in pain.

"Let's get you back into the bed", Sansa suggested, "I will take a look."

Holding Lagertha by her hands, Sansa carefully guided the pregnant shieldmaiden towards the bedroom. There they found Gyda, braiding her hair.

"Gyda, go find Siggy!" Sansa ordered, "Quickly!"

The little girl ran out of the room, looking for Siggy out in the guided Lagertha onto the bed and began to unlace her dress.

Siggy walked quickly to the back room of the great hall. When she entered the room, she saw Sansa holding a crying Lagertha. Another one of the servants was trying to wipe the blood from the bed. Siggy quickly stepped to the group and hugged Lagertha tightly. The pregnancy had failed, Lagertha had miscarried at eight months.

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 _A/N: I changed Rollo's baptized name. 'Rolf' was a goof on the writer's side, his real name was Hrolf, only latin sources name him Rollo before his baptism, he later became Robert I, Duke of Normandy._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	8. Hail to the Gods!

_A/N This is set in Game of Thrones after the purple wedding. Sansa is rescued by littlefinger and brought to a safe place.  
_

 _Vikings fans should be able to guess where we stand in the Vikings timeline... it's Season 1.  
_

 _Westerosi Language is the same as old English, for the sake of the story. Otherwise it would be too much time spent, learning all the languages from scratch.  
_

 _Sansa is 15 years old at the time of the purple wedding in my approach to the story (I am not sure how old she actually was in the episode, but 15 will work here)._

 _To those who are not familiar with the books of 'A Song of Fire and Ice': The second book is titled 'A Clash of Kings'._

 ** _A big thank you to those who reviewed! Even if not every review was posititive, it's been honest.  
Also a big thank you to those who subscribed. _**

_I'm aware that many think, it's all a retelling of Vikings... you're right, it is so far. It will change. **Soon.**  
_

 _This is a chapter that has a lot more appearances of Sansa, it had been planned like this from the beginning... Unfortunately, these last episodes of Vikings were too important to skip them, and too action-heavy to focus more on Sansa._

 _We will also return to Westeros for a short scene in this chapter. We're somewhere during the first half of Season 5 of GoT: Tyrion has escaped from prison, Cersei has began to speak with the high sparrow, but she's not yet imprisoned..._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

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 **Chapter 8 Hail to the Gods  
**

Athelstan sat next to Ragnar, in the empty great hall. It was a beautiful day, those who could spent it outside.

"Every nine years, we travel to the temple at Uppsala", Ragnar began, "To give thanks to the gods, for what they have done. And to give the sacrifices."

He stopped for a moment.

"This year I was not going to go, for there is just too much to do", he continued, "Then my unborn son was cruelly taken from me. It left me thinking, what I had done to anger the gods. What do Christians do about such a loss?"

Athelstan thought for a moment, "In the bible, it says that all sorrows will pass."

"In any case, I have decided to go", Ragnar stated, "I will take the children for the first time. It is important that they go. Will you come with us?"

"Me?" Athelstan asked.

"I thought, maybe you want to stay here and worship your own god", Ragnar told him.

"No, I'll gladly come with you", Athelstan replied.

"Good", Ragnar smiled, "I would have taken you anyway."

* * *

Lagertha and her children were busy accepting the offerings to the gods of all those, who could not make the journey to Uppsala themselves. Lagertha looked over her shoulder and saw her husband sitting there, a grim look on his face and a cup of Ale in his hand.

"Gyda, take care of the offerings for me", Lagertha said and approached Ragnar.

"Are you not happy that we're going to Uppsala?" the shieldmaiden asked.

"Of course I am happy", Ragnar answered ironically, "When we get there, we should ask the gods, why they give with one hand, and take away with the other. Why they make me Earl, yet, kill my son."

"We can have more sons", Lagertha told him with tears in her eyes.

"Have we not tried?" Ragnar asked in defiance.

* * *

They night before the journey, Gyda stumbled out of her bed. She was looking for her mother, instead she ran into Sansa in the great hall's main room.

"Gyda, what is it?" Sansa asked, "Can you not sleep?"

"I'm bleeding", the girl answered.

Sansa smiled at her. "Then you are no longer a child", she explained, "You are a woman now."

Sansa and Gyda quickly cleaned the bed and then Gyda was brought back to sleep. Sansa remembered how frightened she had been herself, when she had bled for the first time. A 'red flower', as Cersei had called it. Gyda seemed to handle it far better than her, as Sansa had been crying the whole night. But, she had to admit, most of the terror of that night was the thought of having to marry Joffrey soon.

After she had cleaned up, Sansa headed into her own bed, where she slept quickly.

* * *

In the morning everyone prepared themselves for the journey. Ragnar had told Sansa, that she should not come with them. Instead he wanted her to stay here and keep an eye on the house.

With everyone gone, Sansa feared that she might be lonely quickly. But on the other hand, she probably had enough to do, so she would not notice it too much. Sansa kept herself busy, holding the great hall clean. She merely cooked for herself and lived alone in the hall.

Among the things that needed to be done was sharpening the knives that were used in the Earl's household. Sansa spent an entire day, sitting on the threshold of the hall, using a whetstone and a bucket of water, perfecting the edges on the knives. This was an exhausting task, but it had to be done. Even if Ragnar and Lagertha weren't gone, this would have been a task for Sansa and Athelstan. It took Sansa the better part of three days, to make sure that every blade in the house was sharp enough.

In the evening, Sansa went for a walk around the town. Although many had joined in the journey to Uppsala, the evenings in the town were still full of activity. Well, there were no feasts as usual, but there was always something to discover.

* * *

In Uppsala, the group had entered the temple. The priest had sprinkled everyone with the blood of sacrificed animals. Then they split up, each moving to the statues of the gods they needed to pray to.

"Frey, Fill me with seed and make me conceive again", Lagertha prayed, "Do with me as you wish, make me blind or deaf - but give me a son."

On the other side of the temple, Ragnar prayed barely audible.

"Odin, Lord of Lords, Father", he began, "Let me understand your will. Is it really true that I shall have more sons? Accept the sacrifice I plan to offer you and tell me this", he leaned forward, making sure, no one would hear him, " _Who_ will bear me my sons?"

* * *

Sansa walked through the streets and suddenly saw a young girl crying outside a house. The girl was maybe of Gyda's age. She had dirty blonde hair, and was clad in a filthy woolen dress. Sansa had been around this town long enough to recognize her as a slave. Actually, she had been around long enough that she no longer questioned her status and the existence of slavery. It was just the way it was around here.

"What is it?" Sansa asked the little girl.

"I let the fire go out", the girl sobbed, "And I don't know how to start it again. My master will be very angry."

"Shh", Sansa tried to calm her, "It will be all right. Did you just forget to put the wood onto the fire?"

The girl nodded. Sansa held her close, wanting her to stop crying.

"Do you want me to show you how to start a fire?" she offered.

The girl nodded with a hopeful glance in her eyes. They went into the house, where Sansa knelt beside the fireplace in the middle of the room. She took the steel and flint stone from her pouch and showed it to the girl.

"You haven't told me your name, yet", Sansa said, "I'm Sansa."

"Thorunn", the girl answered.

"Well, Thorunn, see the steel in my hand?" Sansa instructed her, "I'm sure your master has one somewhere. In the other hand I'm holding a flint stone."

Sansa struck the stone and the steel together and sparks flew in the air.

"Now we have to catch some of those sparks in the tinder", Sansa explained.

She struck the stone and steel again a couple of times until finally, a small spark caught the material. It started to glow. Sansa carefully blew it on, then added straw. As she went on, the fire kept getting bigger and bigger. Finally it was big enough to be put in the fireplace. Then she added spans of wood and finally bigger wooden pieces. The fire began cracking as it started to fill the whole fireplace.

"So, I hope you will remember it", Sansa said, "All it takes is practice. But I need to get going now."

She waved her hand as she left the house. By now it had become dark. Sansa quickly returned to the great hall and fell into her bed, fast asleep.

* * *

Two days later, Sansa was on the market. She needed to get a few things. She was looking at the products of one of the traders, as she overheard the trader talk to one of the warriors of the town.

"This year, the festival at Uppsala is going to be something special", the trader hinted.

"What is so special this year?" the warrior asked.

"There is a rumor, King Horik will attend the festival himself", the trader explained.

"The king will be there?" The warrior was surprised, "I bet Earl Ragnar will be eager to meet him."

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In the Westerosi Capital, Lord Petyr Baelish, littlefinger behind his back, was talking to another trader, this one was coming from England.

"How much do you want for the iron?" he asked. They argued for a while about the price until they finally struck a deal.

"What is new in the English kingdoms?" littlefinger wanted to know.

"Not much, everyday live", the trader told him, "But there is a rumor going around. It seems the coast of Northumbria has been attacked a while ago."

"Attacked? By who?" littlefinger inquired.

"No one knows who they were. It seems they come from the sea, they take what they want and then disappear", the trader explained.

"That's awful", Petyr agreed. In more than one way, he thought.

After they had finalized their business, Petyr returned to the red keep, the royal castle. Somehow he could not help the feeling that this attack may compromise his plans. And Varys was no longer available to get information. Reluctantly he decided, he could not do anything about it at the moment.

Although he needed to know more about these attacks, Littlefinger decided against inquiring at maester Qybrun, the newly appointed master of whispers. He was likely as much loyal to the queen as had Grand maester Pycelle been before him. And if Cersei found out, that it was him, who had helped Sansa Stark escape from King's Landing, his head would soon be decorating a spike. And he really didn't appreciate _that_ thought.

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Sansa returned to the great hall, laden with the products she had bought on the market. When she entered the great hall, she found a man sitting next to the fire which had burned down almost to ashes. The man had red hair and seemed to have travelled at great length.

"Who are you?" Sansa asked.

"My name is not to be given to anyone carelessly", the man answered, "First tell me who you are."

"My name is Sansa", she answered, "I am a servant of Earl Ragnar Lothbrok."

"Well, Sansa, the servant with the hair as _red as blood_. You can tell your Earl Ragnar, that my name is Rym", he said hotly.

"I am sorry, but Lord Ragnar is not in town", Sansa explained, "He travelled to Uppsala."

"That is quite fortunate, because I don't want to talk to him right now", the man smiled, "I believe you're just the right person to tell what I have to tell."

"Me?" Sansa asked, surprised.

"Yes, but you cannot tell anyone", he cautioned her.

"What should I not tell anyone?" Sansa wanted to know.

"I am sure you have heard about the prophecy that Ragnar Lothbrok will father many sons. But he will also have another daughter, older than all of his sons. She will be born on the day of his wedding."

"And how would you know that?" Sansa queried, "And what does that mean? He already has an oldest son, and he's already married. It sounds impossible."

"Trust me, Sansa _bloody-hair_ , one day you will understand it", the man answered, kissing her passionately. Sansa began kissing him back, until they were driven apart by the need for air.

The next morning, Sansa awoke alone in her bed. She remembered sleeping with the stranger, yet, she could have just dreamed about it. After all, her bed was not disturbed, at least not more than usual.

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Maester Quyburn had an audience with the queen mother. She was likely not to be enthusiastic about the slow progress in which the net of spies was rebuilt. But unfortunately, Varys had taken all his contacts with him, when he and Tyrion Lannister had escaped the city.

"Well, what do your spies tell you?" the queen asked as he entered.

"They do tell me things, but I fear those are not the things you want to hear", Quyburn answered.

"Do we have an idea yet, where my treacherous brother is?" Cersei wanted to know, "Or where his wife has fled?"

"I fear not", Quyburn stammered, "Sansa Stark is still as vanished as she was an hour after King Joffrey's death. It takes time to…"

"I am aware, that it will take a long time, until the networks Varys once commanded are rebuilt", Cersei told him, "But nevertheless, it's been almost a year since Joffrey was murdered. I want this murderous bitch found."

"I'm doing what I can, Your Grace", Quyburn reminded her.

"I know", Cersei Lannister sighed, "What else is going on in the world?"

"Not much of interest, Your Grace", Quyburn informed her, "In Europe, everything is calm. But there is a rumor going around: apparently the coast of northern England has come under frequent attacks by pirates."

"Pirates?" the queen regent laughed, "Is that all?"

"That's all I heard, Your Grace", Quyburn told her, "If Varys was still around, he probably could tell you more..."

Cersei noddeed and dismissed him with a nod. Gods damn the eunuch, she thought. Not only had he helped free her brother from prison, but he had been a valuable source of information. Cersei needed Sansa Stark and Tyrion found, not some rumours about pirates. Littlefinger might be concerned about pirates, disrupting his trader's routes, but these pirates were of no importance to the whole of the realm.

Once she had found them, Cersei would not make the same mistake as Robert did, all those years before, when he sent some amateur to kill the Tagaryen girl, she vowed to herself. It would be expensible, yet the service of the faceless men was worth every single coin.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After nearly four weeks, the travelling group returned. Lagertha and her children, Siggy and her daughter Thyri, Floki's lover Helga, and Athelstan.

Sansa was greeting them in the great hall. It was wonderful to her to have them all back.

"Sansa, how are you?" Lagertha greeted her as they embraced.

"I'm good", Sansa said, "Where's Ragnar and the others?"

"They're emissaries for King Horik", Lagertha explained, "Götland is almost on the way from Uppsala to Kattegat. Did anything happen while we were away?"

"No", Sansa lied, "just everyday life."

* * *

Later in the evening, Sansa and Athelstan were working in the kitchen, preparing dinner. Since there would be considerable less mouths to feed because of Ragnar and his men travelling to Götland, it was no feast as most of the times.

"So, how was it?" Sansa asked, eager to know more.

"It was fascinating, in a way", Athelstan described, "The festival was great. You eat and drink and spend just a lot of time with your friends and family. And I … slept with Thyri…"

"Siggy's daughter?!" Sansa asked in shock.

"Yes", Athelstan admitted, "I don't know what to do of this event now. But it definitely happened."

"Did the king really attend the festival?" Sansa desired to know, "I heard rumors…"

"Yes, we met him", Athelstan confirmed, "He's a famous warrior. Ragnar swore his fealty to him when we met him."

"So where is Ragnar now?" Sansa inquired.

"I'm not sure. But King Horik asked him to be his emissary to some Jarl in Götland." Athelstan clarified.

"And what else happened at the festival?" Sansa asked, "After all, Ragnar did not want me to go there."

"Leif is dead", Athelstan told her.

"Dead? How?" Sansa wanted to know.

"He took my place as a sacrifice", Athelstan explained, "It seems my Christian faith is still too strong to be acceptable by the gods."

"Who wanted you to be sacrificed?" Sansa asked, shocked deeply.

"I think, Ragnar wanted it", the former monk answered, "After all, I'm his slave."

The floor beneath Sansa's feet began to turn. Ragnar, who had them both treated with that much respect, almost as friends had planned to sacrifice Athelstan? Why? It must be a lie - but why should Athelstan lie about this?

* * *

This night Sansa could find no sleep. She kept thinking about the sacrifice. What would have happened if they'd chosen her instead? She would describe herself as believing in the gods, that Ragnar, Lagertha and Floki had told her about. Yet she still remembered the gods that had been with her all her life, the seven as well as the old gods. Would Odin and Frigg have saved her live? Or would her old gods from Westeros have been acceptable? Would Ragnar's friend Leif still be alive if she'd been killed?

After sleeping rough during the night, Sansa decided that she needed answers. A suitable occasion arose when she was helping Lagertha weave.

"I have a question", Sansa began, hesitating to bring up such a delicate matter.

"What is it?" Lagertha asked.

"Why would Ragnar sacrifice Athelstan?" Sansa wanted to know.

Lagertha looked at her for a moment. "You remember, when I lost the child? After we have failed ever since, we both knew that we had to make a sacrifice", she explained, "And a sacrifice is only worth it, if you sacrifice something or someone precious to you."

"So it was a gesture of respect?" Sansa asked sarastically.

"No, it was a mistake", Lagertha admitted, "The priests at the temple did not accept him. It would have been better, if a volunteer had been chosen right from the beginning of the trip."

"But why does someone have to be sacrificed at all?" Sansa demanded to know.

"Because we honor the gods this way", Lagertha responded, "Have you not told me of the king in your land, who burns people at the stake as homage to his god? It is the same, just quicker – a cut through the throat. And everyone agrees in his own free will."

"I suppose you are right" Sansa finally admitted.

"Actually, can you find Athelstan? I have to talk to you both", Lagertha told her. Sansa walked outside of the hall and quickly summoned Athelstan. Together they returned to Lagertha.

"Ah, you found him", Lagertha said, "Sit down you two. I need to talk to you."

Both sat down on the table, across from Lagertha.

"First of all, Athelstan, Ragnar and I need to tell you how sorry we are for what happened in Uppsala", she began, "I hope you won't hold it against us."

"There is no need to apologize", Athelstan said. Sansa nodded silently.

"Then, Ragnar and I have talked quite a bit about the two of you", Lagertha continued, "We agreed that you have both served us so long, we want to reward you. We have decided, that it is time to set you free again. Of course you will always be welcome to stay in this house – it means you have the choice, to go, if you want. Or stay as our friends, and not as servants."

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 _A/N: Rym is another name for Thor. It means 'noise'._

 _Blóðughadda - Bloody-Hair is the name of one of the daughters of the goddess_ _Rán, who represents the sea._

 _Sansa and Athelstan are now free again, no longer slaves. What will they make of it?_

 _I think, Vikings fans might even be able to guess, where I'm going with this story. If you have a thought, please keep spoilers out of the comments for now... just send me a PM, I might tell you if you are right..._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	9. All Change

_A/N This is set in Game of Thrones after the purple wedding. Sansa is rescued by littlefinger and brought to a safe place.  
_

 _Vikings fans should be able to guess where we stand in the Vikings timeline... it's Season 1.  
_

 _Westerosi Language is the same as old English, for the sake of the story. Otherwise it would be too much time spent, learning all the languages from scratch.  
_

 _Sansa is 15 years old at the time of the purple wedding in my approach to the story (I am not sure how old she actually was in the episode, but 15 will work here)._

 _To those who are not familiar with the books of 'A Song of Fire and Ice': The second book is titled 'A Clash of Kings'._

 ** _A big thank you to those who reviewed! Another big thank you to all suscribers! I believe I had never before so many new readers who followed or favorited on a single chapter...  
_**

 _This chapter is close to the Vikings episode again. As we've now reached the end of Vikings Season 1, this had to be done like this to get the story over into the second season..._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of Thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

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 **Chapter 9 All Change**

Ragnar and his friends were riding through the heavy Götland rain. They finally arrived in the town were Jarl Borg was residing.

"That is no way to treat guests, whoever they are", Thorstein grumbled. They had been allowed to enter the great hall, but Jarl Borg's warriors had kept them right at the entrance. They were all wet and cold, yet they were kept away from the warming fire.

"If I stay this wet I will rust", Floki complained.

Finally Jarl Borg looked up from the discussion he was having with another man on his table. The Jarl was a big man, with long, blond hair hanging to his shoulders. His beard was thick with two braids hanging down from the corners of his mouth.

He made a sign to the guards and they let the group forward, where they sat down close to the fire.

"Are you the emissaries from King Horik?" he asked. Ragnar nodded.

"You are wasting your time", Borg told them, "It is my land and I want it returned."

"The King hopes we can achieve some kind of agreement", Ragnar explained, "He wants to make peace with you."

"I shall have peace with the King when he leaves my land", Borg rejected the idea.

"How can you have peace with the King, when you insist on humiliating him?" Ragnar wanted to know.

"If I invade, and defeat him", Borg argued, "Would he not be more humiliated?"

"Not if he fights well", Ragnar objected, "In any case, I believe he would relish a fight."

Jarl Borg seemed to think about this answer for a while. "What is your name?" he finally asked.

"Ragnar Lothbrok", Ragnar introduced himself.

Borg's eyes opened slightly. He had not expected such famous guests.

"You are _Ragnar Lothbrok_?" Borg asked for confirmation, "The one who sailed west?"

"I am surprised that you have heard of me", Ragnar replied modestly.

"Of course. The stories of your exploits are far spread", Borg explained. "Why haven't we offered our guests warm clothes and food?" he asked one of the servants.

"Eat and drink. Get yourselves dry and warm", Borg invited them, "Tomorrow we will talk."

* * *

The next morning, they ate breakfast before Jarl Borg invited Ragnar and Rollo to his table to talk about the land. They had all eaten their meals, but still there was food on the table and Ale in their cups.

"I take it from what you said yesterday", Jarl Borg began, "King Horik is prepared to compromise and offer some deal, regarding those lands. Or mine – which he still occupies."

"He is prepared to pay you to renounce your illegal claims", Ragnar explained, "Of his lands."

"You disappoint me, Ragnar Lothbrok", Borg answered, "I almost thought you came here with a serious proposition."

"If you would just name your price", Ragnar said, taking a sip of ale.

"The land is priceless", Borg explained, "What King Horik knows very well. And which is why he wants to keep the land for himself."

"Every piece of land has its price", Rollo said, "Just like every human."

"You don't understand", Borg argued, "We're not talking about a piece of turf where you grow onions. There are minerals in the earth, the land is worth a lot. Which is why I assert my claim."

"King Horik resists your claim", Ragnar smiled, "But still, in good faith, he is prepared to settle with you."

"If you name a reasonable price", Rollo added.

"At the moment", Borg stated, "My price is King Horik's head."

"It seems, I'm done here", Ragnar smiled, standing up from the table.

"Please, sit down", Borg offered, "Let's see if we can find another way."

"What do you have in mind?" Ragnar asked.

"What if my claim was acknowledged, but I was willing to lease the land back to King Horik during his lifetime?" he offered, "Or if we defer judgement on the ownership but share the mineral rights? Can we negotiate like this?"

"Sure, why not?" Rollo replied.

"I have not been given the authority to negotiate in this manner", Ragnar sighed.

"You mean King Horik send you here with nothing but a demand?" Borg asked furiously, "And yet he speaks of peace…"

"I don't know what is in his mind", Ragnar said.

"Well, maybe you should ask him then?" Borg proposed, "Why don't you send one of your men back to King Horik and tell him of my proposal? In the meantime, you and your men can visit our famous ash tree. It is not only famous for its size but it also never loses its leaves. Some think it might even be Yggdrasil."

Ragnar nodded.

"I only have one very small request", Borg said, "I would like one of your men to stay behind, as a kind of security. You understand, I hope?"

* * *

The group left the great hall on their horses, with Rollo staying behind and Floki heading another way, as a messenger to King Horik.

Rollo was sitting in the hall with Jarl Borg.

"You seem to get on well with your brother", Borg began, "I once had a brother, too."

"Really?" Rollo asked.

"We were as close as we could be. We fought together in the shield wall, we shared women", Borg told him, "Then our father died and there was fierce competition, who would be his successor. Although I was the oldest, I was not sure that I would succeed. I was still elected at the Thing. And at the feast, my brother poisoned the drinks. I only survived, because my wife took the cup that I was about to drink from and drained it herself in celebration. My beautiful, young wife. We had just gotten married. Her screams haunt me for the rest of my life."

"Ragnar would never do such a thing", Rollo said, knowing that Borg tried to separate him from his brother.

"Of course not", Borg agreed, "Your brother is a great man. A great warrior."

"As am I", Rollo stated.

"I'm sure you are", Jarl Borg agreed, "But before you came here, I had never heard of you."

* * *

The group was riding through the Götland countryside. When they reached a river, Ragnar let them halt and set up a camp.

"Further down the river is a waterfall", their guide told them, "There's some excellent fishing."

"I'll go", Arne declared.

"And I will go, too", Thorstein added, "For everyone knows: Three eyes are better than one."

They walked along the river until they could see the waterfall in front of them. They walked closer and suddenly ducked. A naked woman was standing in the pool, bathing.

"Keep your eyes away from her", a voice behind them said. The two warriors whirled around and saw four shieldmaidens stand behind them, their weapons directed at the two.

"I can't see, I'm blind", Arne laughed, holding a hand before his good eye.

One of the women lashed out with her axe and slashed Thorstein's cheek.

"What? Are you going to kill us for protecting the reputation of our mistress?" another one asked as Thorstein's hand moved to his axe.

"We came on your mistress by chance", Thorstein tried to explain, "We meant no harm. We're strangers here, guests of Jarl Borg."

"Jarl Borg? Why did you not say so at once?" she answered. Thorstein and Arne were about to go away, when the woman who had bathed came closer to the group.

"You spied on me", she accused them.

"They say they're guests of Jarl Borg", one of the women told her.

"Are you here alone?" the mysterious woman wanted to know.

"No, we're travelling with Earl Ragnar Lothbrok", Arne explained.

"Then I think, Earl Ragnar owes me an apology on your behalf", she smiled.

* * *

Back at the camp, the two men were sitting in front of Ragnar.

"I never knew that fresh fish was also covered in soap", Ragnar teased them. "Now you get your cheek slashed and I shall apologize for the two of you, staring at her?" Ragnar asked annoyed. Arne nodded.

"We went there to fish, we saw her bathing there. What were we supposed to do?" he asked.

"Fish?!" Ragnar suggested.

"You did not see her", Arne objected.

"Who is she anyway to put such a high price on her nakedness?" Ragnar wanted to know. Arne merely shrugged.

"Well, tell her I invite her here. Neither dressed nor undressed, neither hungry nor full, neither in company nor alone", Ragnar told him, "Can you remember all of that, One-eye?"

* * *

Ragnar looked up from the campfire, as a young woman approached the camp. Ragnar stood up and met her halfway. He carefully mustered her and had to admit, she was pretty. She was clad in a fishnet, which hid just enough to hint a very well-shaped body. She was chewing on an apple and held a dog on a leash.

"So, Earl Ragnar. I come to you neither dressed nor undressed, neither hungry nor full, neither alone nor yet in company", she spoke, "Do I pass your test?"

"I owe you an apology", Ragnar answered, "Come and join us."

He guided her back to the campfire and let her sit down on an old log.

"May I ask your name?" Ragnar began.

"My name is Aslaug", she replied.

"We're on our way to see the great Ash tree", Ragnar explained, "Will you come along, Aslaug?"

"Of course I will", she smiled.

* * *

In the great hall in Kattegat, Siggy, Sansa and Lagertha were weaving. Siggy began to cough and kept coughing for almost a minute.

"What is it?" Lagertha asked, concerned.

"I just visited my cousin a few days ago", Siggy explained, "She had just put her young son in the ground."

"How did he die?" Sansa asked, alarmed.

"One day he caught a fever that made him sweat and cry out in the night", Siggy told them, "And the next day, he was dead." Then Siggy collapsed before their eyes to the floor. In a moment, Sansa and Lagertha were kneeling beside her, helping her to a bed.

* * *

The group of travelers was standing at the foot of the tree, staring in the sky in astonishment. It was at least three times as high as any of the surrounding trees. The uppermost branches were not even to be seen from the ground for they vanished between the clouds.

"If this is Yggdrasil, then it must be the same tree that Odin hanged himself from", Bjorn said, looking to the crown in the clouds.

"Why not? All things are possible", Aslaug replied.

 _"I hung from a windy tree. For nine long nights, I hung there"_ , Ragnar told them the story of Odin hanging himself, to find out how death felt like.

* * *

Kattegat had been fully hit by the fever. Siggy had only been the first one to get sick, but within hours, there had been many more. One of them was Thyri. Athelstan and Lagertha were taking care of mother and daughter. The great hall had been opened to everyone as quarter for the sick.

Sansa was taking care of the others as well. Wiping the coughed up spit and blood from the faces or placing wet towels on their brows had become a task for everyone.

* * *

In the camp, the mood was good. Night had begun and everyone was having a good time. All except Bjorn. He was staring angrily at his father, who was laughing together with Aslaug.

"What's wrong, my friend?" Arne asked, sitting down next to Bjorn.

"My father is making a fool out of himself", the boy grumbled.

"He's enjoying himself in the company of a beautiful woman", Arne said, "What's foolish about that?"

"If Lagertha were here, she'd cut his balls off!" Bjorn replied angrily.

"Then it's a good thing she's not here", Arne laughed. Upon seeing the look on the boy's face, he added, "Your father and mother are a famous couple. They love each other – everyone knows that. Don't begrudge your old man a little harmless fun."

* * *

In Jarl Borg's great hall, Rollo was eating dinner, watched by Jarl Borg.

"I trust that everything is to your satisfaction?" the Jarl asked.

"You treat me very well", Rollo answered.

"Well, we would like to keep you entertained, till your brother returns" Borg stated.

"You always talk about my brother", Rollo said.

"What choice do I have?" Borg asked him, "He is your Earl." He indicated the two female servants, standing in the corner. "Which one would you like tonight?" he asked, "Why don't you take both?"

"I don't need to be bribed with women", Rollo refused.

"Then, what is it you really want, Rollo?" Borg demanded to know.

* * *

Floki had reached the residence of King Horik. Now he and the King were outside in the woods, talking about the gods. Floki told the story of how the gods caught the terrible wolf Fenrir in the chains, forged by the dwarves from the things, men could not see or hear: The whisper of a fish, the roots of a mountain.

"These things really interest me", the King admitted, "Like the tricks of the god Loki. How he turned into a flea to steal the precious necklace from the goddess Freya."

"He's only a very distant ancestor", Floki laughed, "I have come here to talk to you about Jarl Borg."

The King looked at the boatbuilder, waiting for further details.

"He doesn't want to sell", Floki began, "But he is interested in a deal."

"But I am not interested in deals with Jarl Borg", the King told him.

"That would make it very hard for Ragnar", Floki mentioned, "Are you not interested whether the negotiations fail?"

* * *

In Kattegat, the fever spread further with every hour. Nearly every moment, another sick person walked into the great hall. By now, Athelstan was sick, as was Gyda. Sansa and Lagertha had been spared so far, and were struggling to take care of all the ill.

Lagertha knelt next to her child, holding a cup of water against her lips.

"Am I going to die?" the girl asked.

"No, you are not going to die", Lagertha assured her.

* * *

Standing at the foot of the tree, Aslaug spoke to Ragnar.

"I think I should tell you the truth about who I really am", she began, "I am princess Aslaug. My mother was the shieldmaiden Brynhilda."

"Everyone has heard of your mother", Ragnar told her.

"But I am not her", Aslaug continued, "I am myself."

"Why did you come with us?" Ragnar wanted to know.

"Because I had no choice", she told him.

Ragnar looked in her eyes for a moment, then kissed her gently.

"Why did you do that?" Aslaug queried.

"Because I had no choice", Ragnar smiled.

In the middle of the night Bjorn woke up. He was about to get back to sleep, when he heard panting and moaning from the back of the tent. Carefully not to be noticed, he turned his head around. He could see Ragnar and Aslaug, together under the furs. He quickly turned away again and tried to sleep again.

The next morning, he walked up to his father, leaning on a tree.

"I hate you", the boy said, "It's disgusting."

"I could not help myself", Ragnar admitted smiling.

"Should I tell that to Lagertha, your _wife_?" Bjorn asked furiously, "You cannot love her that much after all, no matter what people say."

"If you want to", Ragnar offered, "But I do love your mother."

"Swear to me that it won't happen again", Bjorn demanded.

"I swear to you, it will not happen again", Ragnar said, "I love you."

* * *

The fever was still holding Kattegat in its claws. Only very few were not sick. The sick people could no longer find a place in the great hall, there were just too many. Most of them stayed where they collapsed. The dead accumulated in the alleys.

Siggy was healed. She had begun to take care of the others again. Carefully, she pulled back the sheet over one of the dead and let out a scream in horror. In front of her lay the lifeless body of Thyri, her daughter. Siggy kept crying for hours.

"How is Athelstan?" Gyda asked Sansa, as she brought her a cup of fresh water.

"He is now so weak, he cannot eat", Sansa explained.

"Pray to the gods for him, please", the girl urged her.

"I will", Sansa promised with tears in her eyes.

"Sansa, you should know, you have been a wonderful big sister to me", Gyda told her, "I don't know how long I'm going to live, but I wanted you to know that."

Tears were streaming down Sansa's cheeks as she tried to find a suitable response. Finally she just bowed forward and hugged the girl tightly.

Lagertha and most of those, who were not sick were outside on the beach. There were lots of dead bodies, each of them needed a funeral. They built three pyres each big enough to burn several bodies. Finally they lit them up and the heat of the fire forced them to take a step back.

* * *

Night had fallen upon the camp where Ragnar and his companions were. Everyone was asleep. Aslaug, clad in her nightgown walked carefully among the men lying on the floor until she had reached Ragnar. She lifted her skirt and sat on his belly. She began to kiss him hungrily.

"No," Ragnar said. Aslaug stopped for a second then kissed him even more passionate. Ragnar waited till she had to breathe, then said, "No." Aslaug still kept kissing him, until Ragnar held her head between his hands.

"I said no", he told her.

Aslaug did not bother to hide her disappointment. She nevertheless obeyed and walked silently back to her own sleeping place.

Unknown to both Ragnar and Aslaug, a pair of eyes had been watching them the whole time. As Aslaug let go of Ragnar, Bjorn smiled to himself.

* * *

At sunrise, several inhabitants of Kattegat had assembled on the town's square. One of the farmers had brought a goat with him.

"Lord of Lords", Lagertha began, "We offer you this sacrifice, hoping you find it pleasing."

She quickly cut the goat's throat and completed the rite by smearing some of the spilled blood on her face.

At noon, Athelstan awoke and rolled over on his cot. He was healed. Then he looked at the cot next to him.

"Gyda", he tried to call her.

When she didn't answer him, he stood up and looked closer. Her brown eyes stared back at him, empty.

* * *

This evening, everyone was back at Jarl Borg's great hall. Floki had also returned from his mission. They were sitting on the table, everyone eating and drinking.

"So, what does King Horik say?" Jarl Borg addressed Floki, "What compromises is he willing to make?"

"Can I not eat first?" Floki asked, munching on a chicken's leg. He ate silently for a couple of minutes, then sighed. "He will make no compromise", he told the Jarl, "No deals. He says you must name your price."

"Or?" Jarl Borg asked.

"He didn't say 'or'", Floki clarified.

"Well, it seems your mission has been entirely wasted, Ragnar Lothbrok", Jarl Borg stated, "You and your men must leave in the morning. Unless of course, you want to renounce your allegiance with King Horik?"

"Great", Floki murmured, "War."

* * *

Sansa watched with tears in her eyes as Lagertha placed her daughter's lifeless body at the stake. The shieldmaiden stood back for a second, before she took the torch and lit the fire.

The flames licked around the lifeless body of the small girl. Sansa could not longer hold back and the tears started streaming down her cheeks, enhanced by the smoke.

* * *

While everyone else was asleep, Rollo was still in the company of Jarl Borg.

"So I have no choice", Jarl Borg began, "I have to attack and claim what is rightfully mine. Clearly your brother will not support me. But what about you, Rollo? Will you fight beside me? Together we can carve out a new kingdom. Is that not what you want – the death of your brother and the start of your own fame?"

Rollo looked in his eyes for a moment and was quiet for a few minutes.

"Yes", he finally said, "I will fight with you against my brother."

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 _A/N: So, we have reached the end of Season 1. Next up, we see the two brothers fight...  
_

 _I'm sorry that Sansa is only mentioned so little in this chapter, it will get better again._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	10. Brother's War

_A/N: Here we go, Vikings Season 2!_

 _Three years have passed since the raid on Lindisfarne, which would make Sansa 18 or 19 years old in this chapter..._

 ** _A big thank you to those who reviewed! Also to my new subsribers!  
_**

 _ **Warning:** Graphical Violence ahead! This is a battle themed episode...  
_

 _Jarl Borg is invading King Horiks' lands..._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of Thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

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 **Chapter 10 Brother's War**

The army was camping in the hills of King Horik's lands. Ragnar and King Horik were holding their counsel. Thorstein came over, clad in a fur covered cloak, as all the others.

"There is still no sign of him", Thorstein said, "Maybe he won't come."

"He will come", Ragnar assured him, "For Jarl Borg has many reasons to come."

"We will wait for him here", King Horik decided, "And for your brother. Unless you have heard from Rollo?"

"It is true, I've had no message from my brother", Ragnar admitted, "But I still believe in my heart that he will not betray me. For he has no reason."

"Who needs a reason for betrayal?" Floki warned him, "One must always expect the worst, even from your own kin. That way you avoid too much disappointment in life."

* * *

Later in the morning, Ragnar was washing his face, when he heard the sound of a horn. He looked up and saw men standing on the next hill. They were carrying shields, covered in the characteristic colors of Jarl Borg, orange and green. One of them was Rollo.

"There is the treacherous one", Floki said behind Ragnar, "I was right."

In the camp of Jarl Borg, the men were getting ready for battle. Borg stepped beside Rollo, both in bare chests.

"Any regrets?" Borg asked.

"No regrets", Rollo told him.

"Then let us fight", Borg said, "And let the gods decide the outcome!"

They both stepped to the priest who accompanied the army. He tipped a brush into a bowl of goat's blood and sprinkled it over the warriors' chests. They both took a hand full of mushrooms out of another bowl and quickly ate them.

"Rider approaching!" the guard called.

"What is it you want?" Borg asked.

"I am here on behalf of Ragnar Lothbrok" Arne said, "I want to speak to his brother. Rollo, you and I have fought together many times. I think of you as a brother."

"But over there", Arne continued, "Is your real brother. Your own flesh and blood. Do you really want to raise your axe against him?"

"Tell Ragnar, I shall answer him with blood", Rollo told the One-eye.

* * *

Finally, the two armies faced each other on the sandy battlefield, surrounded by hills. Both waited for the other to make the first move. King Horik had left the command of the battle to Ragnar, although he and his men made up a great portion of the allied army.

"Shield wall!" Ragnar finally ordered. Immediately, everyone held their shields together, forming a tight wall.

"Shield wall!" Jarl Borg ordered on the opposite side. His men followed.

"Spears!" Ragnar shouted. The men in their ranks holding spears held them out to the front of the shield wall. On the other side, Borg's army followed their example.

Ragnar waited for another moment, readying himself for the fight. Then he ordered, "CHARGE!"

Both armies ran forward, closely packed, trying to break the enemies shield wall by the force of the impact. They collided and the melee began. Rollo was swinging his large axe with both hands. He cut down one of Horik's warrior's.

"Form a wall!" he ordered.

Some of Jarl Borg's men tried to jump over the fighters in the middle of the battleground. The first ones were hit by spears. Other's came through and were cut down by the men in the back of Ragnar's shield wall, like Floki or Arne.

Thorstein, Ragnar and Horik were in the front line. They wielded their swords and cut down Borg's men, one by one.

Finally, Rollo jumped over Horik's shield wall, his axe connecting with one of Horik's warriors. He swung his axe around and hit another one. Then Floki looked over his shoulder, seeing Rollo stand behind their shield wall, he attacked him with his hatchets. Rollo parried the attack with the handle of his axe. Floki fell to the ground and was just quick enough to grab one of the shields lying around, before Rollo's axe came hammering down. Two other warriors formed a small shield wall, protecting Floki.

Rollo cut them down, first the left one, then hit the right one on his head with the axe. By now, Borg had broken through the shield wall. He circled the shipbuilder. Floki drew his knife from his belt and tried to stab Borg. Borg avoided the hit and tried to hit Floki with his axe. Borg and Rollo were pushed back by Floki's attack, aimed at them both. They somehow avoided being stabbed and Rollo finally held Floki's hand fixed. He hit the boat builder's arm with the wooden handle of his axe as the axehead was broken off before. The bones in Floki's arm broke as his hand was twisted around. Borg hit Floki with his axe on the shoulder, before Rollo scored another hard hit to Floki's head with the axe handle. Floki fell to the ground.

Borg and Rollo were attacked from behind by Thorstein and Arne, while Ragnar carried Floki away. Suddenly, Arne found himself alone facing Rollo. He paused for a moment then charged at the other man, swinging his axe and shield with all his strength. Rollo effortlessly parried the attack with the handle of his axe, then pushed the One-eye back. Rollo discarded the broken handle and waited for the next attack. Arne picked up a spear lying on the ground. He aimed and ran towards Rollo, who stepped aside and avoided the hit. He trapped the spear in his hands and pulled, until he had finally knocked it out of Arne's grip. He turned the spearhead around and ran it into the one-eyed warrior. As Arne began to spit blood, Rollo raised the spear, lifting Arne's feet off the ground, impaling him at the top of the spear.

Ragnar returned to the battlefield, followed by Thorstein. Rollo was looking at the dead body of Arne, not sure how he felt. He had been an enemy, but it was also true, he had been a close friend. Now he was dead. Rollo was awoken by the returning Ragnar and quickly pulled the spear out of Arne's body. The spear at the ready, he faced Ragnar.

"Is this what you really want, brother?" Ragnar asked him.

Rollo tried several times to get himself to run the spearhead into Ragnar's unguarded chest. He failed. He had to admit it to himself.

"I cannot fight you", he said loudly. Rollo threw away the spear and stood there, unarmed. He fell to his knees, at the mercy of his brother.

* * *

Ragnar was sitting on the campfire, warming his hands. He was still encrusted with blood from the battle. Floki was lying on the ground, badly wounded. Rollo was kneeling in chains, guarded by Thorstein.

Jarl Borg and several of his guards entered the camp. They approached Ragnar. King Horik came out of his tent, walked over to the campfire where he sat down next to Ragnar.

"Without being defeated, we have grown weary of the slaughter of our young men", the King announced, "So, Jarl Borg, I offer you one third of the profits on the disputed land. Unless you continue to challenge my claim."

"I would rather go back fighting than accept such scam justice", Borg answered.

"So you will not accept my fair offer?" the King queried.

"No", Jarl Borg replied.

"Why do we continue to look inwards?" Ragnar wanted to know, "Why do we fight each other about this piece or that piece of land? Why don't we look outwards? I have already found a passage west. We have found wealthy lands over there. If we raided together, we would not need to kill any more of our young folk. But instead offer them land, to farm."

"My mind tends the same ways as Ragnar's" Horik stated, "I want to sail west with him. What do you say, Jarl Borg?"

"Yes", Borg agreed after a moment of thought, "I want to see this land to the west. And so I accept your offer."

After Jarl Borg had left the camp, Ragnar walked over to Rollo. "Not that you'd care, brother", he said, "But your niece Gyda is dead."

* * *

The two ships returned to Kattegat. The women of the town were cheering on the pier as the boats came nearer. The cheers ebbed, as they could see how few actually returned, who was missing. They docked to the pier and Floki and the other wounded were carried ashore on stretchers. Then Rollo was guided onto the pier, his hands in chains.

Later in the evening, Ragnar was eating, while the others listened to the news.

"We fought all day", he began, "Jarl Borg would not give in, neither would we."

"One-eye died", he told them, "Rollo killed him."

Siggy looked up as if she wanted to say something, but was not able to speak.

"And Floki may not survive", Ragnar added, "For he is so badly wounded."

"This was not your quarrel", Lagertha said, "This should have never happened."

"No man can walk through life without things happening to him", Ragnar told her.

Lagertha decided it was not the time to press this further. Instead she needed to know something else.

"Who is Aslaug?" she asked.

Ragnar's reaction was strong. He threw his cup in the corner of the room.

"Who is Aslaug?" Lagertha repeated.

"She's a Götland princess", Ragnar told her, "We met her over there."

"You just _met_ her?" Lagertha kept digging.

"Lagertha, stop", Sansa cautioned her.

"What has the boy told you?" Ragnar asked back.

"It does not matter what Bjorn told me", Lagertha said furiously, "What are you saying?"

"I say", Ragnar began, "We should not wash our dirty clothes in public."

He stood up and left the room. Lagertha followed him. As they reached the bedroom, Lagertha took a cup from the table and threw it at Ragnar.

"Did you have sex with her?" she yelled.

"Yes", Ragnar admitted. Lagertha slapped him in the face.

"How many times?" She wanted to know.

"Once", Ragnar said, catching her hand before she could hit him again, "I don't love her."

Lagertha tore her hand free and let her fist connect with Ragnar's nose.

"How can I make you let this go?" Ragnar asked, trapping Lagertha against the wall.

"Never see her again", Lagertha fumed, "Never again."

"Done", Ragnar agreed.

* * *

Sansa watched as Siggy sat next to Rollo who had been put in chains at the town square. Ragnar had told her before, he was not able to judge his own brother for his treason. Therefore, they would have an assembly and they would bring Rollo to what was called the 'law rock'. There his fate would be decided.

She could not help herself, she had to think another time about all the trials she had witnessed in King's Landing. Where Joffrey had sentenced men to have their tongues torn out, or hands cut off. She had to admit, Ragnar and Lagertha had since their rise to power been fair rulers, always looking for a consensus. Yet she was not sure how she wanted Rollo's fate to be – death was an acceptable sentence for treason, there she agreed. But she also remembered, how she felt when her father had been the accused. No matter whether the sentence was just (in her eyes it was not), it had hurt her a lot to see him beheaded.

The population of Kattegat had assembled at the foot of the giant, rocky hill, called the law rock. Rollo was brought forward by Thorstein, who was still nursing the cut on his head he had received during the battle. Rollo knelt in the grass, next to the executioner's block.

The lawgiver appeared on top of the hill. He was an old man, wise from the years. He served as Judge whenever the Earl excused himself from making a judgement.

"I have been asked to determine the fate of this man", the lawgiver began, "He chose to fight with our enemies. He killed many of our sons, fathers, brothers and friends. What hope is there for him?"

The crowd argued loudly for his death, until the lawgiver raised his hand, silencing them.

"This man deserves to die", the lawgiver agreed, "But the gods have made their own judgement. If they'd wanted him dead, he would have died in battle. I conclude therefore this man to be set free!"

Thorstein stepped forward and murmured to Ragnar, "We should kill him anyway."

"We must obey the law", Ragnar countered.

"Who is the lawgiver?" Thorstein asked, "Just an ordinary man!"

"Not when he stands on his sacred stone", Ragnar reminded him.

Sansa watched as Rollo's chains were released. No one seemed to be satisfied with the decision, not even Rollo. Yet, no one else protested against the sentence.

* * *

Several days later, Sansa was searching for Ragnar.

"There is someone coming", she told him.

Ragnar quickly went to the pier and immediately retreated to the great hall upon recognizing the guest. When the guests arrived in the hall, Lagertha scrambled out of their room.

"I had no idea that she would come", Ragnar tried to calm Lagertha, "I did not ask her to come. You must believe me."

They both stood side by side when the guest entered the hall, accompanied by guards. When the guards stepped aside, they revealed a heavily pregnant woman. Lagertha threw an accusing look at Ragnar and bit down an angry comment.

"Lagertha, princess Aslaug", Ragnar introduced them, blushing.

"Thank you, Ragnar", Lagertha said, "I know who it is."

She locked her eyes with Aslaug for a moment, then said, "Come, eat, rest. You must have had a tiring journey."

* * *

In the evening, they were all sitting together at the table, feasting and drinking. Lagertha tried to entertain Aslaug by a little small talk.

"Bjorn told me that your mother was the shieldmaiden Brynhilda of whom we've all heard?" she inquired.

"It's true", Aslaug replied, "Although she died when I was very young. I barely remember her."

"And your father?" Lagertha wanted to know.

"My father was Sigurd", Aslaug declared.

"Sigurd? Just Sigurd?" Lagertha kept asking.

"No, I mean he was _the_ Sigurd", Aslaug explained, "Who according to the sagas killed the dragon Fafnir."

"Then your father is also a hero", Lagertha complimented her.

"I am proud that he was my father, but I never knew him", Aslaug said, "Do you remember me, Bjorn? How we stood together under the tree of life?"

"It wasn't Yggdrasil", Bjorn pouted, "It was just an ordinary tree."

"That's true", Aslaug agreed, "We both know that. It creates a bond between us."

"There is no bond between us", Bjorn said angrily, "I don't want any bond with _you."_

Sansa had been listening to the awkward conversation. Although it had happened before she was born, she imagined that Lagertha must be feeling similar to what her mother had been feeling when her father had brought Jon back from King's Landing.

* * *

The next day, Lagertha and Siggy were busy weaving.

"What do you know about this woman?" Siggy asked her friend.

"I only know what Bjorn told me, which is not much", Lagertha admitted, "He did not want to be disloyal to his father."

She checked the threads in the comb. "I did not know that she was carrying his child", she told Siggy.

"Do you believe it?" Siggy queried.

"I do not know", Lagertha said, "Ragnar believes it."

"And what are you going to do?" Siggy asked. Lagertha remained silent.

* * *

Outside the hall, at the pier, Sansa stepped next to Ragnar.

"What will happen?" she asked, "Will you ask her to leave?"

"I don't know yet", Ragnar told her, "But this woman is carrying my child. I can't abandon her."

"I keep thinking about how Lagertha must feel like my mother felt, when my father returned from the war, with an infant in his hands", Sansa told him.

"What happened?" Ragnar wanted to know.

"It was long before my birth. I grew up with him, but no one ever talked about that" Sansa recalled.

"Do you think I should ask her to stay?" Ragnar inquired.

"I really do not know", Sansa said, "Neither is it my place to tell you."

* * *

Ragnar and his son were visiting Floki. He was still lying in his bed, too hurt and weak to even sit upright.

"Floki", Bjorn said sadly.

"I'm not dead yet ", Floki murmured with his eyes closed, "No thanks to you, Ragnar."

"Say what you want about me", Ragnar smiled, "I'm just glad that the gods were stupid enough to save you."

"The gods, and Helga", Floki agreed.

"You must regain your strength", Ragnar told him, "There is a lot to do – a whole fleet of boats to be built."

* * *

In the evening, everyone was sitting at the table again. Aslaug, followed by her guards walked in and placed several meals on the table.

"I hope you will accept what I have chosen and prepared for you", she said.

"I did not expect you to go to so much trouble", Lagertha told her.

"It is no trouble if it is pleasing you", Aslaug smiled.

Aslaug took her place at the table and the feast began.

"To tell you the truth, I did not imagine you could cook", Lagertha complimented Aslaug.

"I can't", she answered, "My women cooked. I just bought the ingredients."

"Looking at you both together here in my hall", Ragnar began, "I see no reason why you should not get on together. I have heard that similar arrangements exist all over the country."

"What arrangements?" Lagertha asked with clenched teeth.

"That a man can live with more than one woman", Ragnar suggested, "In fact it is not unusual. It works to the benefit of everyone, especially the children – of both marriages."

"It's true", Aslaug agreed, "I know of many such instances."

"Is that what you are suggesting?" Lagertha asked.

Stroking her hair, Ragnar replied, "If I were, what would you say?"

* * *

The next morning, servants began to load a cart with the different chests, which Lagertha packed. Lagertha was in the back of the hall, still packing. Thorstein entered, followed by Floki who was using a stick as crutch.

"You are leaving then", Floki stated.

"Of course I am leaving", Lagertha confirmed.

"Is Bjorn coming with you?" Thorstein wanted to know.

"That is up to Bjorn", Lagertha told him.

The wagon was loaded, everyone was there to say goodbye to Lagertha, except Ragnar.

"Bjorn, you have to choose", Lagertha told him, "Say it now."

"I choose my father", Bjorn sobbed.

Lagertha hugged him tightly, then said her goodbyes to Siggy and Sansa. They both wished her luck. Lagertha climbed upon the wagon and began her journey.

* * *

Ragnar rode into the town. He stopped his horse in front of Thorstein and Bjorn.

"Mother's left", Bjorn told his father.

Ragnar forced his horse in a fast gallop, trying to close in on the wagon. He overtook it, and dismounted from his horse.

"Are you really going to abandon me?" Ragnar wanted to know, "Without even saying a word?"

"You insult and humiliate me", Lagertha spat in his face, "I have no choice but to leave you. And divorce you."

They were interrupted by Bjorn, running up to them. Catching his breath he said, "I've changed my mind. I'm coming with you."

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 _A/N: How will Aslaug contribute to the further events in Kattegat? The next chapter will be covering the wedding...  
_

 _What do you think? I feel like I am getting a good grip on the battle scenes by now. And there will be lots of battles... Do you agree?_

 _Don't forget to review!_


	11. A new Family

_A/N: Here we go, Vikings Season 2!_

 _Three years have passed since the raid on Lindisfarne, which would make Sansa 18 or 19 years old in this chapter..._

 ** _A big thank you to those who reviewed! Also to my new subsribers!_**

 _Since I agree with many of you that it was really close to the Vikings plot so far, here's a chapter that covers the timeline jump between the first episodes of Vikings Season 2!_

 _After Lagertha left, furious about Ragnar's affair with Aslaug, it's time for a new wedding...  
_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of Thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

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 **Chapter 11 A new Family**

It had been three weeks since Lagertha and Bjorn had left Kattegat. Although many were sad, that especially Lagertha had left, the upcoming wedding of Ragnar and Aslaug spread excitement through the town.

Almost everyone had been busy, the town was as clean as it had not been for a long time. Supplies of food were delivered and prepared, and almost everyone was happy. Those who were not so happy were those, who had been close friends of Lagertha, those who still resented Aslaug. One of them was Siggy. She still served Ragnar as his friend, but she was shy, almost reluctant to spend time with Aslaug.

Rollo was still angry at the whole world, thinking it would have been better for everyone, him included, if he had died in battle or Ragnar had him executed upon his arrival. He just kept drinking, trying to drown his misery in ale.

* * *

Finally, the day before the wedding had arrived. Ragnar met Sansa a little outside the town.

"What do you think of what has happened?" he asked her.

"I know that you could have done nothing to keep Lagertha, once she had made up her mind", Sansa answered, "I know that you're not the first man to have a child with someone who was not his wife. I think you should have avoided sleeping with Aslaug in the first place, but now that it happened, what else could you do?"

"I'm glad you think about it that way", Ragnar told her, "I have a suggestion for you."

"Hmm?" Sansa murmured, curious.

"I have lost my family", Ragnar told her, "My wife and my son have left me, my daughter is dead and my brother is no longer part of it. You are without family as well. I want you to be a member of my family."

"How do you mean?" Sansa asked.

"I want you to be known as my daughter", Ragnar proposed, "Ever since I found you in that temple, I have come to love you, just as I loved Gyda. I want you to know that and to acknowledge that fact publicly."

"Do you want me to replace Gyda?" Sansa queried, "Because I am not her – I am myself."

"I know very well, who you are", Ragnar told her, "Even before she died, I sometimes thought of you as an older sister to her. I even believe she thought so of you herself."

"She did", Sansa admitted reluctantly, "She actually reminded me of my little sister."

"And I was not going to begin my new family without telling you how I felt", he said.

Sansa looked him straight in the eye.

"Have I ever told you the real reason, why I did not want you to come to Uppala?" he asked. Sansa shook her head. "I did not want you to come, because if the priests would not accept Athelstan as sacrifice, I was afraid that you might volunteer", Ragnar went on, "And that would have broken my heart."

Sansa felt her heart torn in two. At the one hand, she really liked Ragnar and being his daughter would be beneficial for her social position as well. On the other hand, it somehow felt as if she betrayed her own family heritage.

"What does Aslaug say about it?" she wanted to know, desperately wishing for time to consider her choice.

"I have asked her", Ragnar said, "She thinks you're a lovely girl."

"Can I take time for the decision?" Sansa asked, "I will get back to you with an answer by sunrise tomorrow, I promise."

"Of course you can take all the time you want", Ragnar assured her, "It is your decision."

* * *

Sansa walked through the town, and kept weighing the arguments against one another. In the end, she decided to talk to Aslaug.

Aslaug was sitting in the great hall, tired from having to carry her pregnant belly around all day. Sansa entered the room carefully, and Aslaug looked up.

"Sansa!" she greeted her, "How good it is too see you."

"I need to talk with you", Sansa stammered.

"What can I do for you?" Aslaug wanted to know.

"I had a talk with Ragnar earlier today…" Sansa began.

"And he offered to adopt you", Aslaug finished for her, "And now you've come to ask whether I agree with this plan?"

"It's just – in my old country, of course there are illegitimate children, wards and fostered orphans", Sansa tried to explain, "But adoption is rather uncommon. Especially among noble families. To be recognized as the child of a nobleman, you'd need a royal decree."

"As you have probably noticed already", Aslaug told her, "Marriage, divorce or adoption are far less formal in this land. In your case, all that needs to be done is for Ragnar to recognize you as his child, and for you to agree."

Aslaug smiled and continued, "In any case, I would have accepted Bjorn if he'd chosen to stay. I would have even accepted Lagertha to stay, and be the second wife. What makes you think I would not accept such a loveable girl like you?"

Sansa blushed upon hearing these praises.

"You are too kind", she said, "I will still need some time to think about it."

* * *

This night Sansa could not find any sleep. She kept turning the proposal around in her head, thinking it over and over again. She had left most of her family heritage behind in all those years at Joffrey's court. She had renounced her family and seen her father beheaded. In comparison, it was a small sacrifice to take on a new family. And being the Earl's daughter _had_ a certain ring to it.

Yet, it had only been a few years, since Ragnar had captured her in this monastery in England, what had this place been called? Oh right, Lindisfarne. She had feared to be taken in chains in front of Cersei and the trial in the red keep. She had been at least somehow relieved, when Ragnar had kept her as his slave. He had been a good master, no doubt. Sansa had seen how good a father he had been to his children, yet he was not perfect. His affair with Aslaug proved that. Now his family lay in ruins, and he wanted her to be a part of what he tried to build on top of those ruins? Use her to fill a void in his life? Marry her off to another Earl to score an important alliance?

This thought made her sit upright in her bed at once. She had experienced that before, she would not be a bait in a strategic game anymore. She made her decision and fell into sleep, as the night was almost at its end.

" _He will also have another daughter, older than all of his sons. She will be born on the day of his wedding."_

In her dream, the words the stranger had spoken to her so many months before rang through. Wasn't it a strange coincidence that Ragnar had chosen the day before his wedding to make this proposal? He could not have known about this prophecy, if it had been one.

* * *

At sunrise, Sansa stood up and waited for Ragnar to wake from his sleep. She finally heard his heavy step on the floor of the great hall. She quickly went after him, chasing him down.

"What do you want so early in the morning?" he grinned.

"I have another question, regarding your proposal", Sansa began, "Do you need a daughter to be married of to some Earl to help score an alliance?"

"I might", Ragnar responded.

"You should know, that I've been used like this before", Sansa cautioned him, "I will accept your offer only if I have your word by all the gods that you will not marry me off to someone I don't want."

Ragnar thought about that for a while, taken aback by the fury in her words.

"You have my word", he finally said, "I swear on my sacred arm ring and with the gods as my witnesses, I will not force you into a marriage you don't agree to."

"Then I accept your suggestion, _father_ ", Sansa smiled.

"I am glad you did", Ragnar said, kissing Sansa on her forehead, then smiled, "Now I have to get married."

* * *

Ragnar returned to his room where he began preparing himself. The ceremony was to be held in the great hall, where the feast would happen later also. He still had time till noon, when the priestess would perform the ceremony, but he did not want to waste time in any way.

Ragnar took a rag and placed it in the bowl of water,which Athelstan had brought him before. He took off his tunic and began carefully washing himself, his hair, beard and skin. He undid his hair and carefully combed it. He then began to redo all the braids, first the smaller braids on top of his head, then he fastened them together and secured his long mane at the back of his head. After half an hour he was finally done. Ragnar put on the traditional white tunic of the groom and made sure for a last time that all of his clothes were clean.

* * *

Sansa had returned to Aslaug's room after her meeting with Ragnar. Aslaug was still trying to get up from her sleep. Sansa placed a little breakfast on the table and the two women ate together.

"I have agreed to the adoption", Sansa told her.

"I was sure you would in the end", Aslaug replied, "And I am glad to be your new mother."

"Well, _mother,_ then we should get you ready for your wedding", Sansa smiled.

Sansa helped Aslaug into her dress, which was a bit of a struggle because of the size of Aslaug's belly. She then began to comb her hair and braid it. She used flowers to decorate the hair, in the traditional fashion.

* * *

Ragnar was waiting in the great hall for his bride. He was wearing his white tunic, and at his side were Thorstein and Floki. Ragnar held his sword in his hands and tried unsuccessfully to remain calm.

Aslaug entered the great hall, wearing the traditional white dress and flowers in her hair. She was accompanied by Sansa, who followed her with one step behind.

Aslaug stepped in front of Ragnar and Sansa handed her a sword. The priestess who would perform the ceremony told them, "Aslaug, you must present this sword to the groom. It transfers the father's power of protection over the woman to her new husband."

Aslaug and Ragnar exchanged the swords. Sansa placed two rings on the tips of the swords.

"Ragnar, do you swear to the gods that you want to marry this woman?" the priestess asked him.

"I swear", Ragnar answered, "With the gods as my witnesses."

"Aslaug, do you swear to the gods that you want to marry this man?" she asked the bride.

"I swear", she replied, "With the gods as my witnesses."

They placed the rings on their fingers and the crowd in the hall cheered loudly.

"Kiss her!" they urged. Ragnar smiled and placed a passionate kiss on Aslaug's lips.

* * *

Then the ceremony was over and the feast began. A meal of enormous proportions was brought into the hall, where the guests had taken their places. There was more than enough for everyone.

Once everyone had been served, Thorstein stood up. Raising his drinking horn, he said "Let us drink to Ragnar and Aslaug! May the gods grant them many sons!"

Everyone in the hall raised his cup and drank in celebration of the happy couple. Then Ragnar stood up.

"I thank you for your kind words, Thorstein", he began, "And I thank you all for your good wishes."

He stopped for a moment, then continued, "I have another announcement to make: This morning, my good friend Sansa Stark has agreed to be regarded as my daughter, which honors me greatly. To Sansa!"

Ragnar raised his cup and everyone in the room followed his example. Although no one had expected it, they seemed genuinely happy for her, although a few jealous eyes were barely concealed.

Sansa blushed and wished she could just disappear, but nevertheless she was happy. But she had not expected such an open announcement! Did Ragnar want to embarrass her for the rest of her life?

Ragnar stood up and came over to her. He took her head between his hands and kissed her on the forehead.

"Welcome to the family", he said.

After the feast, they danced. Everyone was full, which did not mean there was no food left. Ragnar and Aslaug were in the middle of the dancefloor, dancing slowly in respect to Aslaug's reduced mobility. Sansa had been whirled around the dancefloor by Thorstein and Floki and had been congratulated in her estimation by every person in Scandinavia. She too was dancing most of the time, the young men of Kattegat taking over from each other.

Finally, the celebrations were over, and everyone went to his home. A few were still in the process of drinking and eating, others were too sound asleep to move from the place where they had fallen.

* * *

The next morning, Sansa awoke with her head pounding. She quickly closed her eyes again, hoping to stop herself from spinning. She had gotten used to drink more Ale and wine than she ever had in Winterfell, or even later in King's Landing. Yet, yesterday she had definitely drank too much. But it had been a special day for them all, and she would probably not die from the headache.

Sansa staggered out of her room and into the main room in the great hall. It was still decorated, although the first flowers began to sag. On the tables there were still cups and rests of the feast, in between lay a couple of men, too drunk to get to their own homes last night.

Several servants were already busy cleaning up. But, 'already' was not the right word, Sansa thought. By the height of the sun, it must have been about mid-morning. Sansa felt that she needed to piss and quickly headed outside.

Outside she met her new father, who looked as if he had just fallen out of bed, too. He was as hung over as Sansa was, still staggering along the wall.

"Good morning, Sansa", he greeted her.

"Good morning", Sansa moaned, "I never thought someone could have such a headache."

"It happens", Ragnar shrugged, "And after all, yesterday was a very special day, for us all – Sansa, _daughter of Ragnar."_

"I like the sound of that", Sansa told him with a smile, "But I think it will take some time to get used to it."

"You will", he told her.

* * *

Five weeks had passed since the wedding and summer was about to begin. The weather in Kattegat had been warm and mostly dry for the last weeks, most of the inhabitants enjoyed the sun. Since Ragnar had decided not to go raiding this year, Kattegat was slightly more populated than it had been the other years during the spring and summer months.

Sansa was trying to concentrate on the stitches she was trying to do. She had agreed to repair Ragnar's leather shirt which had segments of chainmail sewn onto it. Now some of the segments were coming loose, and Sansa had volunteered to repair it.

"Sansa!" Aslaug called in her room. Sansa dropped her work and walked over to her new parent's bedroom. Aslaug was sitting in the bed, looking alarmed.

"I think the baby is coming", she told Sansa.

"Hold on, I'll get help", Sansa said, already out of the door. She found Siggy right outside the hall.

"The baby is coming", she told her. Siggy quickly entered the hall and went into Aslaug's room. Sansa continued her way until she had found Ragnar. After she had told him the news, she ran quickly back to the hall, trying to help Siggy and Aslaug.

* * *

Ragnar waited impatiently outside the room, while Siggy and Sansa helped delivering the baby. After several hours, a blood-covered Siggy opened the door and waved him into the room. Aslaug was sleeping, and Sansa was holding the baby in her arms. Ragnar carefully took over from her and began to rock his newborn son gently.

After few minutes, Aslaug opened her eyes. Ragnar, still holding the baby bend over and kissed her.

"How do we call him?" he asked. Aslaug thought for a moment, then sat up, taking a close look on her son.

"Ubba", she suggested.

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 _A/N: Be honest - did you see that twist coming? How do you think the Viking patchwork family will fare?  
_

 _I'll admit, I know next to nothing about adoption in Westeros, the part with the royal decree is from the scene where Ramsay Snow is made into Ramsay Bolton, somewhere in Season 4 (?) of GoT..._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	12. Preparation

_A/N: Here we go, Vikings Season 2!_

 _This leads on where we left off in the last chapter, the year following Ubba's birth. That would make Sansa probably 20.  
_

 ** _I thank all those, who took the time to review! As well as all those who follow or favorited this story!  
_**

 _Since I agree with many of you that it was really close to the Vikings plot so far, here's a chapter that covers the timeline jump between the first episodes of Vikings Season 2!_

 _I am sure, many of you were eager to see Sansa learn to fight..._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of Thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

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 **Chapter 12 Preparation  
**

Summer had arrived and almost everyone in Kattegat was busy working on the fields. As daughter of the Earl, Sansa did not need to help on the fields, but her newborn little brother kept her busy in any case.

Her second activity was fight training with her new father. She did not need to become a full-blown shield maiden, if she did not want to, Ragnar had told her, but she should be at least able to use the weapons.

They had begun slowly. First, Ragnar had handed her a spear and told her to attack him with it. At the end of the day, her body had been covered in bruises, but she had been proud of herself in any case. Then they had moved on to the light throwing axes, and today Ragnar had finally given her a shield and a sword.

"You're holding it the wrong way", Ragnar told her.

"How should I hold it any other way?" Sansa asked, "That damn pommel is uncomfortable."

"It only hurts your wrist because you are holding it wrong", Ragnar explained, "Here, take it like this." Ragnar opened his own hand and showed her how he fitted his fingers around the grip, keeping the pommel at the base of his thumb. "Here the swords stops, if you throw that blow", he explained, "Now, if you begin with your hand more up at the guard and then try to hit something, it will rest at this position in the end."

Sansa tried it again, cutting through the air. "It feels better", she finally stated.

"Then take the wooden sword", Ragnar told her, "And defend yourself!"

Sansa took the wooden sword from the weapons rack and Ragnar sent a heavy blow into the direction of her shoulder. Somehow Sansa managed to lift her shield just enough. Ragnar drew his sword back and it came hammering from the other side, hitting Sansa in her side.

"Ouch", she exclaimed as she stood up from the ground. Sansa grabbed her shield and sword again and prepared herself for the next attack. She was again barely able to avoid the hit and shortly thereafter, Ragnar helped her up from the ground. They continued this way, all day.

* * *

"It does not matter", Ragnar told her in the evening, "As I've said before, I don't need you to be a shield maiden to love you. But you don't know if you don't find yourself in a situation where you are happy that you have been taught at least the basics."

"I guess you are right", Sansa grinned, "I'm not a fighter, after all."

As so many nights before, Sansa had trouble sleeping with bruises covering her body. In contrast to all those times she had been beaten by Ser Meryn Trant during her time in King's Landing, she did not mind these bruises that much. Of course they hurt, and it took a lot of her well-being away, but she really enjoyed her fight training, something she would have attributed to Arya rather than herself.

* * *

Summer came and went, the days grew shorter again, Ubba had gotten his first tooth and the crops on the fields were ready to be brought into the sheds. Life was good in the town of Kattegat.

Sansa enjoyed her life, being the Earl's daughter she was a natural target for most of the single men in town. Considering her previous relationships however, Sansa was careful to commit herself to anyone. Aside from that, Ragnar had become fiercely protective of his new daughter and chased most of them away.

One day, as the family sat at the dinner table, Aslaug had news to share. "I'm with child again", she told them. Sansa grinned with joy, seeing the family grow was wonderful for her. Ragnar was also proud of her, he had a happy smile on his face that lasted for days.

The winter was uneventful. Sansa watched as Aslaug grew bigger with nearly every new day, Ragnar visited Floki to check on the progress in building the boats, and the spring came closer every day.

Rollo had mostly disappeared from Ragnar's household, not that anyone really missed him, his betrayal still foremost in everyone's mind. Sansa sometimes saw him drunk in the streets or being guided home by Siggy, who somehow had decided to stay with him.

* * *

Finally, the spring was about to come. It was time for the Thing, the assembly of all free men of fighting age in the region.

The day before the Thing, Aslaug caught a fever. Not as serious as the one that had plagued Kattegat before, but serious enough so she could not leave her bed and join the feast.

"If Aslaug is not better by the time the rites of passage are performed, would you take her part over from her?" Ragnar asked Sansa.

"You mean, the _kiss_?" Sansa queried, "I think I can do that."

* * *

The day of the Thing had finally come. All free men in the region had arrived in the town. Competitions were held, wrestling, archery, the men tried to compete with each other. Most of them were having fun in the games, although the Thing had not yet officially begun.

On the first day of the Thing, Ragnar had to be the Judge on those who had committed major crimes which had not been dealt with during the year. In this year, a man had beaten his daughter to death because she had attempted to run away with her lover. The lover had died shortly thereafter from his wounds. Now his family had accused the parents of the daughter of murder.

Ragnar was sitting on his high chair in the hall. Aslaug's chair was empty for she was still in her bed, Sansa was sitting on the third chair.

"Knut Hansson, you have been accused of the murder of your daughter's lover, Ketill Ivarson, as well as your own daughter", Ragnar said, "What do you say about these accusations?"

"They are not true", the man said, looking up, "I did not kill Ketill Ivarson."

"And what about your daughter?" Ragnar wanted to know.

"Of course I did not kill her either!" the man said.

"Ivar the Blacksmith, you have brought this man before this trial", Ragnar addressed the victim's father, "What makes you think he is guilty?"

"I remember how much he disliked my son courting his daughter" the accuser told him, "And the day I found my son and his daughter dead, on the way from their farm to my workshop, they had both the holes of an axe in their heads."

"But that is no proof", Sansa suggested.

"No", Ivar admitted, "But when I went to tell Knut of the death of his daughter, he did not seem to care at all. In fact, it seemed that he already knew about it."

"So you do believe he killed your son and his own daughter, when they walked from the farm to your workshop?" Ragnar paraphrased.

"I do, Lord", Ivar said.

"Does anyone else have to say something about it?" Ragnar asked around. No one spoke up.

"Then we have now the duty to decide whether this man is guilty or not", Ragnar declared, "All of you, look at this man and if you think he is guilty, raise your hand."

Some raised their hands, others did not. Slowly, more and more hands went up. Finally, Ragnar spoke again, "Knut Hansson, you have been found guilty to the charge of murder. The appropriate sentence for this crime is death. How do you wish to die?"

"By beheading, Lord", the man managed to say.

"Very well", Ragnar said, "You will be executed tomorrow at noon."

* * *

At noon the crowd had assembled on the town's square, waiting for the execution to happen. Ragnar, accompanied by Sansa watched from the entrance of the great hall, as the prisoner was brought forward by several guards. When he knelt down next to the executioner's block, the guards opened his chains.

"Any last words?" Ragnar asked him. The man just shook his head barely noticeable. He then knelt down in front of the block and put his head onto the block. The warrior who had been tasked with the execution raised his great axe above his head. Then, at a nod from Ragnar, he let the axe come down on the convict's neck. The giant axe head cut through the flesh and the spine and the man's head fell to the ground.

* * *

In the evening, everyone had found a place in the great hall. Although it was a lot of space, this was one of the rare occasions when it had been completely filled.

Ragnar entered the hall, followed by Sansa. They both took their seats, then Ragnar took his sword. Thorstein, today serving as Ragnar's first steward, placed little portions of salt and sand on the sword's blade.

Three boys stepped forward. They knelt in front of Ragnar and waited nervously.

"Olaf, son of Harald, Knut, son of Sven and Hreidrek, son of Erik", Ragnar greeted them, "Accept his gift from both the land and the sea, for you belong to both of them."

The three boys carefully licked the portions of the blade. Ragnar handed them their arm rings.

"These arm rings bind you in allegiance and fealty to me, your Earl", Ragnar told them, "Any oath you swear on them has to be kept under any circumstances. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, Lord", they answered.

"And do you give your fealty and allegiance to me of your own free will?" Ragnar inquired.

"Yes, Lord", the three boys answered again.

"Then you may now put on the arm rings", Ragnar instructed them. The boys each placed their rings on their wrists, then shyly walked over to Sansa. She kissed each of them lightly on the mouth. As she had finished, the crowd began to cheer loudly.

"Let us feast!" Ragnar ordered.

Soon the room was filled with servants bringing in the enormous meals that had been prepared. Wooden tablets, filled with whole pigs, fish soup, cheese. It was a feast that had earned its name. Servants kept handing drinking horns to those on the table

The feast went on till long in the night. Everyone went to bed as they chose. Ragnar had excused himself relatively early, going to look after Aslaug, who was still ill. Sansa had stayed and was once again drinking more than she had planned.

* * *

She awoke in the morning, with a strange feeling. She opened her eyes, weary against the sunlight streaming on her face. She was naked in her bed and _not alone_.

Her legs were entangled with another pair of legs, a strong arm was draped over her waist. She carefully turned her head around and looked at the face of her companion. He had long, brown hair, and was probably about her age. He had no scars in his face, and honestly he was probably too young to have participated in any raid, yet.

Sansa sat carefully up in her bed. She did not want to wake him from his sleep. On tiptoes she slipped out of the room and out of the hall. She used some cold water from a bucket and washed her face, sobering her up in the process. What happened the night before?

When she returned inside the hall, she found her father stand on the entrance of her room. He looked at her, almost as if he was trying to read her mind.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" Ragnar asked teasingly.

"I probably should but I don't know and don't want to tell you just yet", Sansa told him, "Let me sober up for a while – and you should probably do the same."

They both sat on one of the benches. Sansa drank a cup of water, before she lay with her back flat against the top of the bench.

They both looked up as the young man came out of Sansa's room, wearing his pants but no tunic.

"Good morning", he greeted them.

"Good morning", Sansa said, blushing.

"I will leave the two of you alone for a minute", Ragnar suggested and stood up.

"How are you?" the young man asked Sansa, sitting down on the bench next to her.

"Awful. My head feels like Thor himself hammered onto it", Sansa complained, "And I am sorry, I don't even remember your name…"

"Halfdan", he introduced himself, "but don't think I would not know who you are…"

* * *

In the afternoon, the Thing continued. Every warrior of the region had arrived in the great hall, including Athelstan and Rollo. Rollo was somehow sober and seemed a little surprised when no one tried to exclude him from the Thing.

Sansa had arrived before her father, she was sitting on her chair, chatting idly with Ylva, her best friend, about half a year younger than herself.

Finally Ragnar arrived. At the same moment, all chatter in the hall ceased. Ragnar took his seat and looked up. He smiled, then gave them the bitter news.

"I have not made this decision easily," he apologized, "But the truth is, we do not yet have the strength to send another raiding party to the west."

A murmur went through the hall, everyone was highly disappointed. Ragnar raised his hand and the room became silent again.

"With all the lives lost during the plague and the warriors who did not return from the war with Jarl Borg, we simply do not have the number of men to man the boats", he explained, "But hopefully, next year we can go west again."

The mood during the feast was a little disappointed, although the feast itself was still highly welcome and plentiful. Sansa and Ragnar were eating on their table where they were joined by Floki and Thorstein.

* * *

After the Thing had ended, the normal life in Kattegat went on. The farmers brought in their crops as the time came, the fishermen returned regularly from their trips, the warriors kept exercising, although their skill would likely not going to be used this year. Sansa, and Athelstan as a new addition mainly joined them, trying to enhance their skills.

Athelstan did really good, considering that he never before had held a weapon, let alone used one. He especially liked his axe.

Sansa had decided, she would never become a warrior, although she got slowly better. The bruises on her body became less and less frequent, and although he landed a hit every now and then, she decided for herself that she was into fighting. But she did not need to have to fight, after all, Ragnar had only urged her to get a basic knowledge of the use of weapons. If she was a warrior was left to her own choice.

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 _A/N: I will go back to the original Vikings plot in the next chapter. Unfortunately, the only things we know about the timeline jump in early Season 2, are  
_

 _1\. it's been 4 years since Lagertha and Bjorn left. I've covered the first two years of that gap and will jump forward in the next chapter.  
_

 _2\. Ubba and Hvitserk have been born, Aslaug is pregnant with Sigurd._

 _3\. Ragnar has not been raiding for the entire time._

 _That leaves a rather limited space of possible developments, so I've decided to return to chapters that bring us close to the Vikings storyline again... at least for now!_

 _If any of you take issue with Sansa's one-night-stand, it might not have been as uncommon as the medieval cliché is leading us to believe. If you don't believe me, try and research about Charlemagne's daughters. Although Christian, they had a pretty wild life. Secret relationships and illegitimate children to name only a few..._

 _Oh, I almost forgot: The Halfdan in this chapter is not the same Halfdan that appears in Season 4... I just ran out of ideas for typical Viking names ;)_

 _Don't forget to review!_


	13. Invasion

_A/N: Here we go, Vikings Season 2!_

 _There was a 2 year jump from the last chapter, so Sansa is 22...  
_

 ** _I thank all those, who took the time to review! As well as all those who follow or favorited this story!  
_**

 ** _3000 Views so far! Thanks to everyone!_**

 _Back to the canonic storyline…_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of Thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

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 **Chapter 13 Invasion**

Four years had passed since Lagertha had left Kattegat. Four years since Ragnar's wedding to Aslaug and the subsequent adoption of Sansa. Four years since the last raid to the west.

Many men had come into the great hall. Ubba was playing with his younger brother Hvitserk. Athelstan and Thorstein were discussing the different techniques and advantages of axes. Floki and Helga entered the hall and interrupted them.

"Thorstein, you are standing in the way of the fire", Floki told him, "So, where is our Earl?"

"Behind you", Ragnar answered, holding Ubba in his arms, "you've made yourself rare, Floki."

"Oh, I've been busy, busy like a dwarf building your boats", Floki explained, "Even in the ice and the snow."

"Soooo busy", Ragnar teased him, "Yet so much time to complain."

"Every year", Thorstein began, "Your people wonder when you will order another raid west…"

"And every year you disappoint them", Floki added, "I've heard some people say, that Earl Ragnar is becoming like Earl Haraldson."

"Then I will put their minds at ease", Ragnar answered. He stood up onto the table.

"It has taken a long time to prepare ourselves", he announced, "To build our ships, to replace the young men that we lost in the plague. But now we're ready. So this summer we shall finally go west again!"

The audience cheered, but Ragnar was not done, yet.

"We will return to England", he told them, "For this country has been so ... _generous_ , the last time. And we will not go alone. King Horik and Jarl Borg have agreed to join us. And maybe we will not return so soon. Maybe we will stay a while, explore the land. Maybe even winter there. For this is an interesting place."

"And now that I put your minds to rest", he finished, "Who is hungry?"

* * *

Sansa was sitting on the table talking to the pregnant Aslaug and trying desperately not to answer the itch on her upper arms with scratching. Her new tattoos were almost healed. She had a Thor's hammer on her right arm and Hugin and Munin, the two ravens that belonged to Odin decorated her left upper arm. Since the wedding, Ragnar had also acquired a new tattoo, the shaved skin of his left skull was now covered in a tightly woven pattern.

Siggy was walking through the town. The snowflakes were loosely falling around her, when she saw someone lying in the dirt. She stepped closer and pulled the man's hair out of his face. It was Rollo.

Rollo was asleep from all the ale he had drunk. Siggy failed in her attempts to wake him gently. Frustrated, she looked around and discovered a bucket with water, which was frozen. She broke the ice and then splashed the icy water in Rollo's face. The giant warrior awoke in an instant and had to face Siggy's accusing looks.

* * *

In the great hall, Ragnar had just been handed his meal from one of the servants, a young woman with blond hair.

"I have never seen you before", he said, "What is your name?"

"My name is Hild, Lord", she answered shyly.

"Where are you from, Hild?" Ragnar wanted to know.

"Uppsala", she said.

Aslaug had watched the conversation. When Hild had left, she turned to her husband.

"What were you talking with her?" she asked a little too innocent. Ragnar sighed.

"We talked about … movements in the shield wall", he answered, annoyed. Aslaug was not satisfied with this information.

"Girl", she called out, "Bring me some more food. I'm eating for two."

The girl brought her another plate. As she wanted to step back, Aslaug cautioned her, "You are old enough – be careful who you choose to be familiar with."

* * *

Later that evening, Ragnar and Aslaug were in the bedroom, Ragnar asked, "What is it? You are acting strangely."

"You think it is strange for a pregnant woman to wish for her husband to be supportive and kind?" Aslaug asked him.

"No", Ragnar stated.

"Then why do you think I'm acting strangely?" she asked. Ragnar looked at her with big eyes.

"I don't know", Ragnar told her.

"You don't know that you are flirting with other women?" Aslaug accused him, "That you show them you want to bed them?"

Ragnar sat up on the bed and put his face next to Aslaug's pregnant belly.

"Tell your beautiful mother, that I am not doing what she thinks", Ragnar told the baby.

"Yes, you are", Aslaug insisted, "Women know these things. Especially me, I have certain gifts."

"Gifts?" Ragnar asked, "You mean you're a Völva?"

"I might be", Aslaug said mysteriously, "And the fact that you want to sleep with this slave girl, is such an insult to me."

"I do not want to sleep with that girl", Ragnar murmured, already half asleep. Suddenly Aslaug sat up in the bed.

"I won't let you sleep until I've told you this", she said, "I have given you sons, and I am carrying another son. My father killed the mighty dragon Fafnir and in our son's eye will be the image of the serpent."

* * *

Ragnar was lying on the floor, throwing Hvitserk high in the air. Ubba sat on his legs and laughed. Sansa was sitting next to Aslaug, trying to feel her unborn sibling move. Everyone looked up as Siggy entered the room, followed by Rollo.

"You should all leave", Ragnar told them. They all got up and Sansa took her little brother by the hand.

"I said everyone", he told Siggy who was still standing in the room. She left in a hurry and Ragnar seated himself on the bench.

"Are you not going to take a seat?" he asked Rollo, "What do you want?"

"I am your brother", Rollo began.

"You chose to fight against me", Ragnar reminded him, "You could have killed me."

"I remember when we were boys, we often fought against each other", Rollo replied, "But I never could have killed you."

"So why should I trust you ever again?" Ragnar asked him.

"Because I ask you to", Rollo pointed out, "I merely ask for the opportunity to regain your respect, to fight alongside you again."

"You have suffered these past years", Ragnar admitted, "But many have suffered more, because of what you did."

Resignated, Rollo made a move to stand up and leave.

"Let me think on it", Ragnar said, "Then I will give you my decision."

* * *

King Horik and his companions walked through the streets of Kattegat and entered the great hall.

"Ragnar Lothbrok, my great friend", the King greeted him, "I am glad to see you. These are my sons, Ari and Erlendur."

"King Horik, It is a pleasure to have you here", Ragnar replied, "I look forward to getting to know your sons, and to introduce you mine. There is someone here you will well remember."

Ragnar led his visitors to the back of the hall. Jarl Borg was sitting on a bench, holding a cup of wine. He looked up when he saw the group approaching.

"I can see that you are not too delighted to see me here, King Horik", Borg said, "But I hope you are not surprised. After all, we agreed to raid together and I have come here to honor our agreement."

"The last time I saw you, Jarl Borg, I had the distasteful task of burying many of my kinsmen and friends", the King answered, "But it is true, I am not surprised to see you here."

Everyone turned around as Rollo entered the room. The guests both looked shocked as they recognized him.

"Surely this is not Rollo, the brother who fought against us?" the King asked, "You spared his life?!"

"The gods spared his life", Ragnar explained, turning to Rollo, "I accept you back. I acknowledge you as my brother, but I don't want you to raid with us."

"I accept your judgement", Rollo answered.

* * *

In the evening there was another feast in the great hall, to honor the prominent guests. Ragnar's family and the guests were sitting at the same table. Ragnar was talking with Ari, the King's son, while the King was talking with Aslaug. Sansa was sitting between the King's sons, trying to stay out of the conversation.

King Horik suddenly leaned over to Ragnar.

"I've come to a decision", the King said, "I don't want Jarl Borg to raid with us. I cannot bring myself to trust him. You must inform him of our decision."

Ragnar rolled his eyes, knowing exactly what Borg's reaction was likely to be.

* * *

The next day, King Horik's ships arrived in Kattegat. Half a dozen ships, all bearing the white and black shields that were carried by the King's household troops. Ragnar and Floki were standing further down on the pier, out of voice range of the King.

"Are you jealous?" Ragnar teased Floki. Floki giggled.

"They won't even make it out of the Fjord", he said.

While King Horik overlooked the arrival of his ships, Ragnar returned to the great hall, where he was awaited by Jarl Borg.

"So, when do we set sail?" the geatish Jarl wanted to know. Ragnar sighed.

"Forgive me, Jarl Borg", he began, "But we have decided not to seek your help."

"I thought we had an agreement?" Jarl Borg argued.

"It is not my intention to break this agreement", Ragnar told him, "but on this occasion…"

Jarl Borg turned around and walked away, shaking his head angrily.

* * *

In another house in Kattegat, Siggy was talking to King Horik.

"I know many things here in Kattegat that you don't know of", Siggy told the king, "I knew Ragnar's first wife and her son, I know of Ragnar's strengths and weaknesses."

"Why should I want to know about that?" Horik asked her.

"Because Ragnar is your ally", Siggy told him, "It is always a strength to know the weaknesses of your friends, don't you think?"

"But how can I know that I can trust you?" Horik wanted to know.

Siggy pointed at the bed in the corner and let her dress slide down.

* * *

Ragnar was saying goodbye to his family. He had Hvitserk on his arms. Sansa and Aslaug stood around, while Ubba was trying to carry his father's sword. Despite his struggle, the point of the sheathed sword slithered over the floor.

"Now you grow big and strong", Ragnar said to Hvitserk, "I love you." He handed the boy over to Sansa. "And I am glad you're my daughter", he told her, "And stop being sad for your ... _friend_ leaving you."

Sansa smiled weakly. "It's been over for a year, father", she grinned, "I would easier forget about him, if you finally stopped reminding me..."

He bowed down to Ubba and took his sword from the boy. "You do what your mother tells you to do", he urged him, before whispering, "most of the time." Finally he took a small wooden sword from behind his back and gave it to him.

Ragnar stood up. "Farewell, my wife", he said.

"We will make a sacrifice to Thor", Aslaug told him, "But I think you should cross the sea safely."

They embraced tightly for a moment, then Ragnar went on his way to the pier.

The boats were loosened of the pier and rowed out of the fjord. Then, the sails were hoisted and they set course towards England. King Horik and his sons were on Ragnar's ships, sailing with the famous navigator who had first found the way west. Athelstan was also aboard, Ragnar had meant that he was ready to fight.

* * *

After three days at sea, Ragnar was getting nervous. By now, they should have been close to land. In the evening, a giant storm hit them. The boats were dancing across the waves and the men aboard were miserable and wet from the spray and rain.

Ragnar was on the helm. He was having laughing, being completely in control of the ship.

"Are you having fun, King Horik?" he asked laughing.

The wind came in hard and the big sail of the boat began to tear.

"We have to let the sail down", Ragnar commanded. The men quickly began to work when they suddenly all listened up.

"What is this?" Athelstan asked.

Floki shuddered. "That's the sound of waves hitting rocks", he stammered. The sound every sailor fears.

"We have to set out the oars!" Ragnar shouted, "Row! Pull us away!"

Somehow they managed to row away from the cliffs. Finally, the storm ceased and fog set in. After the fog had lifted, they realized they were the only ship around.

"We've been blown miles of course", Athelstan stated, "Who knows where we are?"

"The gods, priest", Floki told him.

Ragnar overlooked the condition of the boat. The yardarm was broken and the sail had a gash, but otherwise they were fine.

"What I want to know, is where are all the ships?" Ragnar asked when they approached several other ships, "How many do you see?"

"Only four", Floki told him.

"Some of the others may have been scattered", Thorstein reminded them.

In this moment, Erlendur, the King's younger son pointed out into the fog. A darker scheme could be seen against the foggy sky.

"Land!" King Horik called, "I told my boys, Ragnar always finds land."

While the rest of the crew was cheering, Ragnar stepped next to Floki.

"What do you think?" he asked, "Where are we?"

"I don't know, Ragnar", Floki answered, "After all, I'm only the boat builder – you are the navigator."

* * *

The five ships were rowed to the beach and the Vikings disembarked. They waded ashore silently and headed into the land. They soon found a small river, which they followed. After a few hours of marching, they decided to camp on the gravel banks in the middle of the river.

Soon, everyone was relaxed. Some slept in the grass, others fished. Almost everyone was eating.

Suddenly arrows landed in the middle of the camp. The King's son, Ari, was among the first ones who got hit. The arrow had entered his right chest and he died quickly. Others scrambled for their shields.

The northmen divided into two groups which each formed an individual shield wall. They closed their shield walls to all sides, taking effective cover from all the arrows flying through the air.

"They're everywhere", Thorstein told Ragnar after a short look around.

In the other shield wall, King Horik was glancing above his shield.

"Erlendur, do not be dismayed", he told his son, "Meet everything head on. Whether we live or die today is already in the hands of the gods! Fight well and if you fall surely Odin will take you to Valhalla!"

The English soldiers began their attack and hit both shield wall with force. A heavy fight began. The Vikings used their axes and swords to hit and stab the English soldiers, while they tried their best to make the shield wall break.

"Horik is in trouble!" Athelstan told Ragnar, pointing at the other shield wall, which was heavily hit by the English soldiers.

"Go help him!" Ragnar ordered. Athelstan took his axe from his belt and charged across the bed of the river towards the other shield wall. He was intercepted by some of the English footmen and they began to fight in the middle between the shield walls.

"Help Horik", Ragnar ordered Floki. Floki and Thorstein left the shield wall and ran over to the other shield wall, were they struggled to strengthen it. Ragnar ran out into the river and tackled down the two English soldiers which were trying to kill Athelstan. They both joined Horik's shield wall.

"Open!" Ragnar ordered. Thorstein and the warrior next to him immediately followed his command, allowing the English warriors to enter the shield wall. There in the middle of the shield wall, everyone was stabbing at them, and several of them were quickly cut down.

Ragnar tackled another english soldier to the ground, killing him with his sword, when a second Englishman swung his sword at his back. Just in the right moment, Athelstan arrived, digging his axe into the English soldier's back.

* * *

The battle was won, the Vikings were looking after their wounded and dead. King Horik and his son Erlendur grieved for Ari. Athelstan was sitting at the side as Ragnar walked up to him.

"You did not hesitate today", he complimented the former monk. He handed Athelstan an arm ring.

"Take it if you want", he offered. Athelstan eyed the ring for a few seconds, then put it on his wrist.

* * *

Ragnar and Athelstan walked over to the two English warriors they had taken prisoner.

"Where are we?" Athelstan asked, "This is not Northumbria."

"This is the Kingdom of Wessex" one of the men answered.

"So your king is King Egbert?" Athelstan wanted to know.

"Yes, our king is King Egbert", the man confirmed, "Have you heard of him?"

"I have heard many things about him", Athelstan told them.

"Everything you've heard is true", the other prisoner said.

"What have you heard about _King Egbert_?" Ragnar asked Athelstan.

"That he's just like you", Athelstan smiled.

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 _A/N: Sorry for having so few moments with Sansa in this chapter...  
_

 _In case I have confused you with the mentioning of 'Four years' at the beginning, this refers to Lagertha and Bjorn leaving. The last two chapters covered about one and a half, or two years of that timeline jump._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	14. Treachery

_A/N: Here we go, Vikings Season 2!_

 ** _I thank all those, who took the time to review! As well as all those who follow or favorited this story!  
_**

 _Ragnar is still in England..._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of Thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

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 **Chapter 14 Treachery**

The northmen were walking through the English countryside. They reached the end of the forest and were able to see a settlement in the distance.

"What is this place?" Ragnar asked Athelstan.

"It's a Christian church. A minster, a large one", Athelstan told him, "It might be Winchester."

"And will there be treasure?" King Horik asked.

"If it is Winchester, it is a great place of pilgrimage", Athelstan guessed, "There will be treasure."

* * *

The Vikings spread out and approached the city. Without being detected, they walked through the scrub towards the church. Shortly before they had reached the outer houses, they were spotted and the bell in the church kept ringing continuously.

They walked carefully closer. Everyone had drawn their weapons by now. Ragnar's shield had been broken during the ambush at the river, so he was uncovered. He only held his sword casually in his hand, his axe remaining at his belt.

When they closed in on the houses, a group of English soldiers emerged from in between the houses and ran towards the northmen. One of the Vikings handed Ragnar a spear which he threw at the rushing Englishmen, and hit him in the chest. The northmen quickly mixed with the English soldiers, cutting them down.

The last one of the Englishmen turned to flee and Ragnar chased him into the courtyard, where he tackled him down and stabbed him in the throat. Three English soldiers on horses were scattered over the courtyard. Ragnar swiftly jumped on a barrel, then hacked with his sword into one of the rider's shoulders. The others were hit by arrows shot by Thorstein.

The warriors now assembled in the courtyard. Some of them had been busy finishing the remaining English footmen off, outside the settlement. They now joined the others.

One of them walked towards the door of the church and attempted to open it, when he was stopped by Thorstein.

"Could be a trap", Thorstein cautioned him.

"Shield wall!" King Horik ordered.

The Vikings quickly formed, the front of the shield wall facing towards the church door. Thorstein had stepped upon the well in the courtyard and aimed his bow at the door. Ragnar, without shield, was standing behind the wall.

Two of the warriors carefully approached the door and pushed it open. It revealed an empty church.

"Open", Ragnar commanded, smiling. After all, a little bit of unnecessary caution was never bad. They entered the church and looked around.

"Where have they all gone?" the King wondered.

"There should be treasure", Floki stated, "He said there would be treasure." He pointed at Athelstan, "Why do you always listen to him, Ragnar?"

"The treasure is over there", Athelstan said, indicating the altar.

"This is no treasure", King Horik said, "This is an empty wooden table!"

"You are mistaken, King Horik", Athelstan smiled, "The treasure is here – you're standing on it."

Horik seemed to think about this for a second, then looked at the wooden planks, which made up the floor. He and several others pushed the altar from its place and it revealed a trap door. Floki pulled it open and they found several chests, filled with gold and silver.

* * *

Thorstein and some of the others were exploring the town further. As they walked through a shed, Thorstein suddenly stood still. He signaled the others to be silent, then pulled aside some of the straw covering the floor. The floor was also made of wooden planks with several only laid in loose. He removed them and revealed several Englishmen underneath the floor.

Athelstan was wandering around on his own. Somehow he found his way into the Scriptorium. He looked at all the parchment and half compiled books. He laid his axe and shield aside, then took a pencil and began to draw.

"No! Stop!" A young monk shouted and came running to him. Athelstan quickly grabbed his axe and hit the monk right in the chest. As the blood splashed back into his face, he realized that he had just killed a simple monk, just as he had once been. He had no weapon, he had not been any danger to Athelstan.

Another Englishman walked into the room and saw Athelstan stand over the dead body of the monk. From the clothes he wore, Athelstan recognized him as the bishop.

"Hide!" he urged him in English.

"You speak our language", the bishop looked surprised, "You are one of us."

"Once", Athelstan admitted.

"Then I will tell you this", the bishop agitated himself, "We will catch you and crucify you, for an apostate is the lowest and vilest creature in the eyes of god."

Floki came into the room and looked at the bishop. He hooked his hatchet around his neck and pulled him forward as if he was on a leash. He brought the bishop into the church, where the northmen were still busy looting the treasure.

"This is their main priest", he said triumphantly. King Horik looked up.

"You preach against our gods", he told the bishop, "You say there is only one god, but you're a liar and a fool."

They tied the bishop to one of the pillars, then Horik took a bow and arrow. He drew, pointed and loosened the arrow. It hit the naked, tied bishop in his thigh.

* * *

Ragnar was with several of Horik's men, looting the rest of the town. Inside the house, the men were desperately trying to find something of value. Ragnar let them search for a while unsuccessful, then opened the hearth. Inside there were metal cups, coins and other values.

While the others were packing the treasure Ragnar had shown them, Ragnar himself had taken a seat at the table. He was looking at the bread, freshly baked, cooling off. He broke off a piece and tasted it. It was delicious.

While he ate, he saw a little boy crunching down frightened under the table. He quickly looked over his shoulder, the others were still occupied with the treasure. He gave the boy a smile, then took a blanket, hanging from the wall and draped it over the little boy, hiding him.

* * *

In the church, the warriors took turns in shooting at the bishop. By now, he had a dozen arrows in his limbs and body.

"Is he still talking?" wondered Floki, listening to the praying old man, "Tough old goat."

Erlendur put the next arrow on the bowstring. Athelstan decided he could no longer watch this torture. He stepped forward, in the way of Erlendur's arrow.

"Suffer no more", he told the bishop. Then he took his knife and cut the old bishop's throat.

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Outside the town of Hedeby, a woman in an expensive cloak was standing on a hill. She sighed as she heard her husband calling for her.

"Lagertha!" he yelled, "Why must I follow you out into the fields?"

"You're my wife, your place is by my side" the Earl explained, "Especially when we have important guests."

"I will not stay and hear my son insulted", she said, turning around.

"Your son should know his place by now", the Earl said, "He does not accept my love for him."

"You don't love my son, Sigvard", Lagertha told him, "You don't love anyone. You don't know how to."

Earl Sigvard slapped her in the face. Lagertha fell to the ground and angrily glared up at him. Her lip was split.

"Forgive me, Lagertha, I'm a tempered man", he said, "And If your son will only meet me half way, I will see that he has a good future."

* * *

Lagertha returned to the great hall. In passing she spoke to a young man.

"Why would you let him do that to you?" he asked.

"What are you talking about?" Lagertha asked.

"Earl Sigvard, your husband, has hit you", he told her, "I saw it. If it happens again, I will kill him."

"It will never happen again, Bjorn", Lagertha calmed her son.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The raiding parties had returned to their camp. Most of them were eating or drinking, some repaired the defenses, others were gambling.

"In times like this, I miss our friend Arne", Thorstein said, "He would always make everyone laugh, even in the bleakest moods."

"And now he's making the gods laugh", Floki reminded him, "That is why they took him from us. They were jealous."

"Speaking of gods", he said, standing up, "Athelstan, I have something for you."

He opened his pouch and pulled out a book and a rotten bone.

"Is this not the image of your god?" he asked, "I also have for you the hand of your holy man".

"I told you before", Athelstan said annoyed, "My god is Odin."

* * *

Further down the camp, Ragnar was talking to King Horik.

"You were right, Ragnar", the King said, "This land is rich."

"Yes it is", Ragnar agreed. He took a hatchet and dug it into the grass.

"But here is the real treasure", he said.

"Earth?" the King asked disbelieving.

"Have you not seen it? Everywhere we go there are crops", Ragnar told him, "Compared to our countries where farming is hard, here it is easy. If we lived here, there would be no more hunger amongst our people."

* * *

In Kattegat, Sansa was sitting on the bed next to Aslaug. She was carefully holding her newborn brother.

"What did you call him?" she asked.

"His name is Sigurd", Aslaug told her, "After my father. Sigurd Snake-in-the-eye."

Sansa looked closer and saw that one of his pupils had a strange form. Almost as if it showed a snake.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

In Götland, the great hall was full of guests. Everyone was cheering for the newly wed couple. Finally, Jarl Borg and his bride sat down at the table.

"Friends, Family – what's left of it", Borg began, "So I am married for the second time. As most of you know, my first marriage lasted less than an hour, because my own brother poisoned the drinks that day. Of course the same thing can never happen twice, so let the wine be poured!"

He paused for a moment while the servants filled the cups of everyone on the table.

"Now who will be the first to drink?" he challenged them. The guests exchanged uneasy looks. As his bride, Torvi, was reaching for the cup, he refused.

"No I couldn't bear it for a second time", he said, then downed the cup. He stood there for a moment, then began to pant, his mouth open wide. He coughed and the guests looked at him in horror.

Finally he began to smile again. "That's good stuff!" he declared. Everyone toasted to him.

"I have something else to say", he continued, "I don't want to damper the celebrations, but the agreement between myself, King Horik and Ragnar Lothbrok has been broken. This is an insult to me, to my wife's family, to all of you. Frankly, I blame King Horik more for what has happened, but I am also aware that Ragnar Lothbrok has abandoned his lands to the care of his wife and his drunk brother."

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The emissaries approached the Viking camp. One of them was a nobleman, judging by his clothes, the other was wearing the attire of a bishop.

"Who can speak to us?" the bishop demanded to know.

Ragnar looked at the others for a moment, then answered in English, "I can."

"I was sent here by Egbert, King of Wessex", the bishop began, "The King regrets your attack on the holy church at Winchester." He gulped as Ragnar stepped closer to him.

"He wants to know, how long you intend to stay in his kingdom", he finally stammered.

"That… depends", Ragnar told him.

"On what?" the bishop asked. Ragnar stepped closer to him and began tugging on the bishops clothes.

"On what he'll offer us to leave", Ragnar explained, "Or what he'll offer us to stay."

"Stay?!" the bishop asked in horror.

"We want to make peace with the king", Ragnar smiled, "So we don't have to kill any more of you."

The bishop gulped for another time then answered, "I will relay the King your message."

The two emissaries turned around and returned to their horses. King Horik followed them and dug his axe into the nobleman's throat. The bishop looked in horror at the body, then turned around and ran as fast as he could with his size and weight.

* * *

In Kattegat, Siggy entered the great hall in a hurry. Rollo was sleeping on one of the benches.

"Rollo, wake up!" she urged him, "There are boats."

Rollo stood up and followed her outside. Far out in the fjord, they could see five boats, approaching the town.

"Who are they?" Siggy asked.

"I think I can guess", Rollo sighed, "Go back to the town and find everyone who can fight - everyone who can hold a weapon."

* * *

Rollo went back to the great hall, where he grabbed his weapons.

"What is it?" Aslaug asked him.

"Jarl Borg", Rollo told her, "He has come back to attack us."

* * *

"Sansa, wake up!" Siggy called as she shook her.

"What is it?" Sansa murmured in her sleep.

"We're under attack", Siggy told her, "Jarl Borg is coming."

Within a moment, Sansa's eyes flew open and she scrambled out of her bed.

"We have to get to the mountains", Siggy explained, "Get your brothers! Hurry!"

* * *

Rollo went out on the pier where the inhabitants of Kattegat were already preparing barricades. Everyone was armed, but Rollo knew exactly that every good fighter was in England with Ragnar.

Aslaug, Sansa, Siggy and the children were running quickly through the town, trying to get to the mountains. Several of the women from the town were also following them.

* * *

When they were close enough, the ships dropped their sails and the crews rowed towards the beach. Finally, the oars were pulled in and the ships drifted into the sand. The seasoned warriors from Jarl Borg's army jumped from the ships and began to fight the assembled inhabitants of Kattegat.

Arrows were loosened, some of the attackers fell, but they kept on coming. Rollo wielded his sword and an axe, cutting down every attacker who crossed his path. Still there were too many.

"Pull back!" he finally ordered, "Back to the market place!"

Whoever of the defenders was still alive made his way to the market place as fast as they could. Jarl Borg assembled his forces and followed them.

When he reached the market place, a boy handed Rollo two spears. He turned around and threw them at the charging men of Jarl Borg, hitting the first two straight in the chest. Rollo took cover behind the barricade, while the archers loosened their arrows at the charging attackers. Several were hit, before Jarl Borg had ordered his men into a shield wall.

"You can't win, Rollo!" Borg yelled.

Rollo was sitting behind the barricades, preparing himself to die shortly. He wanted to kill as many of Jarl Borg's men as he could.

"There is no disgrace in the eyes of the gods to save yourself for another day, Rollo", an old warrior whispered to him.

"Surrender!" Borg demanded.

"Your duty is to save the sons of Ragnar", the old warrior reminded Rollo, "Go – I will tell the gods what you have done."

Rollo thought for a moment, then stood up and left the town, hidden from Jarl Borg's view. The old warrior took his great axe and held it out in a gesture of surrender, when he stepped in front of the barricade.

Three of Jarl Borg's men approached him. As they were close enough, the old man swung the axe around, hitting the first warrior in the chest. He swung back, crushing the second warrior's skull. The third one slashed him with his sword in his shoulder and the old warrior collapsed. The men and women of Kattegat broke out of their barricade, yelling, and charged at the attackers.

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 _A/N: Sorry for having so few moments with Sansa in this chapter... It will be much better in the next ones.  
_

 _And somehow, this ended up a really short chapter in comparison (I think it's the shortest one except for the first one), I have no idea how that happened._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	15. Eye for an Eye

_A/N: Here we go, Vikings Season 2!_

 ** _I thank all those, who took the time to review! As well as all those who follow or favorited this story!  
_**

 ** _Unfortunately, my PC crashed some days ago. Luckily, I already uploaded this file. Until it's fixed, I am writing on my brother's, so my time is limited. I hope I can keep the updates steady, but the next one might be a bit delayed..._**

 _Ragnar's family is on the run from Jarl Borg, while Ragnar and King Horik are in Wessex...  
_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of Thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 **Chapter 15 Eye for an Eye**

The group was wandering through the countryside. Ragnar's family, Aslaug, Sansa, Rollo, Siggy and the children. They had a horse, carrying the few things they had been able to take with them, when they had fled Kattegat.

The first day they wandered, everyone began to have blisters on their feet. None of them were used to the long march, but it was necessary to survive. Their feet and legs ached. Yet, the fear of Jarl Borg was keeping them moving.

They began early in the morning and walked till late in the evening. They only stopped when it got so dark that they could no longer see the path. They did not make fires, for Rollo feared they might be seen at night. No one of them had lived that miserable ever before. No fire meant no warmth during the night, no warm food and they stayed wet for hours after each rainfall.

As they walked, Sansa observed the others. It kept her distracted from the hunger she was feeling. Rollo, determined to keep them safe. Yet, she could see that he was desperate. Aslaug, who was not used to any discomfort, complaining more regularly than the others. Sigurd was mainly carried by his mother, too small to realize any of his surroundings. Ubbe and Hvitserk, who saw all this as a great adventure, too young to fully realize the necessity and danger. They walked as long as they could, then were either sat on the horse, or carried by Sansa or Siggy. Siggy was keeping up pretty well, trying hard not to be seen as the weakest member of their group.

In the afternoon of the fifth day, Rollo called them to a halt. In front of them, they could see a lonely shed, standing on a hill.

"We will stay here", Rollo announced.

"No, I'm not staying there", Aslaug objected, "It looks disgusting."

"It will be winter soon enough", Rollo said, "If we have nowhere to stay, no roof over our heads, no hearth to warm us, we will all perish."

"Surely we can find some Earl's hall", Aslaug suggested, "Somewhere more comfortable and inviting – for my children."

"Even if we find such a place, it will only be a couple of days till someone tells Jarl Borg about us", Sansa told her.

"We can survive this", Siggy encouraged her, "we all can survive this. It will make us stronger. It will also make your sons stronger."

* * *

In Kattegat, everyone had come to the main place. In the middle, a big fire was burning, on which the warriors of Jarl Borg had thrown the red shields that Ragnar's men had carried. Jarl Borg stepped up on the deck in front of the great hall.

"People of Kattegat!" he began, "Let me introduce myself: I am Jarl Borg from Götland. I am your new ruler. Ragnar Lothbrok has broken our agreement and therefore – by our laws – has forfeited the right to rule."

"You will find me a fair ruler", he promised, "Of course my wife and some of my men will soon join me here, but that will not disturb you here. Kattegat is an important trading town and I want it to flourish."

"Whoever tells me the whereabouts of Ragnar's wife, children and brother, will be paid his or her weight in silver and gold. From now on, only criminals will speak of Ragnar Lothbrok", he declared, "There will be no protest against my rule."

* * *

It had been a few days, since Ragnar's family had arrived at the farm. Sansa and Siggy were busy with their chores and Aslaug was caring for the children.

"Ubba, let go of your brother!" Aslaug called. The little boy ignored her completely, while Sigurd kept crying.

"Give the baby to me", Siggy urged her. Aslaug handed over her child, then tried to separate the two older boys.

"We can not stay here", Aslaug complained, "Everything is so dirty here."

"A lot of our people live like this", Sansa told her as she entered the room.

"I know that is not what you are used to", Siggy said, "But live is not a walk in the sunshine."

"My children will all die of some diseases", Aslaug argued, "Look at them, so thinly and weak already."

"They look like they're having fun to me", Sansa smiled, "And if I haven't told you before, I am telling you now: I've lived even worse before, we can and we will survive!"

"When did you live even worse?" Siggy wanted to know, "When you were Ragnar's slave?"

"Actually, that was somehow similar to this", Sansa replied, "I meant after the raid on the farm by your husband."

"Ah, I see. Where did you hide all the time?" Siggy wanted to know, "Ragnar must have been badly injured, from the way he was limping at the time of the duel."

"Floki's", Sansa told her, "Out in the marshes. We've been there for two months and we thought we'd have to stay there all winter…"

* * *

The riders approached the town. They held in a safe distance from the town, and watched as the gates opened. A group of soldiers and a rider came out. The rider held up his sword demonstratively, Ragnar held his axe up as well. They both handed their weapons to someone else in the group, then the rider came forward and Ragnar entered the town.

Ragnar followed one of the noblemen through a hallway in the royal villa. It certainly looked different than the royal villa Ragnar had seen in Northumbria. In was built completely of stone and everywhere were statues. Ragnar looked closely at one of the statues, admiring the work.

"Who built these things?" he asked. It was obvious, that all these statues were very old. And since there were no newer ones to be seen, he suspected that the Englishmen were not the ones who had created them.

"No one knows", the nobleman replied, "Some say that once a race of giants lived here."

"Giants?" Ragnar asked disbelievingly.

They went further along. Then the nobleman opened a door and Ragnar could see a man sitting in a pool of water. He was about his own age, had shoulder-long light brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard.

"Sire, may I present to you, Earl Ragnar Lothbrok", the nobleman introduced Ragnar.

"You may leave us", the man in the pool said, "All of you."

The nobleman bowed his head and turned around. The guards standing in the corners followed him outside.

"Will you not join me, Ragnar Lothbrok?" the King said, almost bored in his pool, "The water has just the right temperature."

Ragnar walked around for a moment, then began to undo the laces that held together his armor. He took it off, followed by his shirt and pants, revealing old scars, tattoos, bruises and dirt. Ragnar lowered himself into the bath.

"Now we are equal", the King said, "And we can talk together honestly. Man to man."

"If you allow me a question", Egbert continued, "Why don't you go home? After the sack of Winchester, you surely have enough treasure and by staying you've given me time to raise a large army."

"I don't care much about treasure", Ragnar told him, "I am a very curious man. I want to see your land and how you farm it. You see - I am really a farmer."

"Are you saying that if I offered you some land, we might get a deal?" Egbert wondered.

"We might", Ragnar smiled back.

"But I would want something in return", Egbert said, "See, I am a very ambitious man. I have great plans – and you and your warrior may be able to help me to fulfill them."

* * *

Rollo tied his horse to the fence outside the shed where the family was staying. He entered it and sat down, Sansa and Siggy waiting for news.

"I went to every farming family I could find and ask them to fight against Jarl Borg", he told them.

"How many?" Siggy wanted to know.

"20, maybe 30 warriors", Rollo told her.

"That's not enough", she sighed. Sansa nodded, sipping on a cup of ale.

"Not enough for a battle", Rollo admitted, "but maybe enough to torment Jarl Borg, raid his outposts, disrupt his supplies. Sooner or later, Ragnar will return from England, and with him most of the warriors. In the meantime, it is our task to keep his memory alive."

He took a sip from his cup and watched Siggy smile at him.

"What are you smiling?" he asked.

"I'm smiling, because a year ago, you would have not spoken this way", she said grinning.

"My brother forgave me", Rollo stated, "I had thought this was impossible. I had tried to kill him and I grew to hate myself."

He looked up as Siggy stood up and loosened her hair.

"I'm sorry, you must be tired. You want to sleep", he said,

"I don't want to sleep", Siggy explained, kissing him, "I want to fuck. I want to feel alive."

Sansa watched as they kissed, then stood silently up and went outside. There was something she needed to talk to Rollo about, but it had time till tomorrow.

* * *

The next morning, Sansa intercepted Rollo outside of the house.

"I need to speak with you", she urged, "Not in the house."

"What is it?" he asked as he joined her outside, overlooking the fields. Sansa looked at him uneasy for amoment.

"Can you teach me how to fight?" Sansa blurted out.

"You? Why would you want to fight?" Rollo asked her, surprised.

"When the time comes, I want to help to destroy Jarl Borg", Sansa finally said.

"I am sure, you know that you don't have to do that", Rollo reminded her, "After all, I remember you were not so enthusiastic, when Ragnar tried to train you."

"I don't think I ever told you: Everyone from my family was killed, a long time ago", Sansa recounted, "I was a hostage, so I was spared, but I could not do anything to protect those I loved from being killed, one by one. Then, what I never thought possible, I became a part of another family, which I've come to love as much as I loved my old family. And now this family is in danger and I will help to protect them."

"Learning to fight is a long process", Rollo argued, "It takes years. And against the army of Jarl Borg, you would likely be killed."

"If the gods want me dead, then I will be dead", Sansa said unimpressed, "But I will not be the one, left alone to mourn all those dead. Not again."

Rollo gave her a stern look. Sansa held it straight.

" _Uncle_ , we have several weeks or months until my father returns", Sansa pleaded, "Can you not teach me, and then, when he is back, we let him decide whether I'm ready?"

* * *

Ragnar had returned to the Viking camp. He was talking to King Horik about the possibilities of a deal with King Egbert, when a ship approached. They looked up, then Horik began to smile.

"That's one of mine!" he called, "That's Thorvard!"

The ship was tied to the makeshift pier, which they had assembled. Thorvard stepped on the land. He was a tall man, with long, dark hair. His face was covered in scars, a little like Rollo's ever since he had been captured by Earl Haraldson.

Thorvard and King Horik shortly embraced, then Thorvard looked up.

"I bring grave news for Ragnar Lothbrok", he began, "Jarl Borg has invaded your lands. Your family has fled, only the gods know where."

* * *

Ragnar was packing his gear in his tent, when King Horik entered.

"You are leaving then", the King said.

"Of course I am", Ragnar answered, "Are you also coming?"

"I want to stay here", Horik thought, "I think this King Egbert is afraid of us and will make some deal to our advantage."

"You cannot even speak the language", Ragnar reminded him, "How would you keep up the negotiations?"

"If you would permit this man, Athelstan, to remain here with me", the King explained, indicating the former monk, "Then I and this Egbert shall talk."

"Athelstan is a free man", Ragnar said, "He can do whatever he wants."

"If I can help King Horik, then I am happy to stay", Athelstan told them.

"I didn't expect you to say that", Ragnar admitted, "Since you know my family better than anyone."

"You always say how important these contacts are", Athelstan remembered, "And the truth is, I am the weakest fighter in your army. I will be of very little use, when you face Jarl Borg. Here, I can be of great use, I am one of the few that can speak both languages."

Ragnar sighed in defeat. He had to admit that Athelstan had a valid point.

* * *

In Hedeby, Lagertha was standing in her bedroom. She was waiting for her husband, feverishly thinking about how she should bring up the issue. The door opened and Earl Sigvard entered the room.

"Lagertha, let's get into bed", the drunk Earl said.

"There is something we need to talk about", Lagertha told him.

"As long as it has nothing to do with Ragnar Lothbrok", the Earl agreed.

"Of course it has to do with him", Lagertha replied.

"Then I'm not interested", Sigvard declared, sinking into the bed.

"It is in your interest. You have heard about the attack on his lands", Lagertha began, "Jarl Borg will bring his family and relations from Götland and place them on your doorstep. After Ragnar, you will be next…"

"I said, I'm not interested in your ex-husband", Sigvard repeated, "He used to own your body, now you belong to me." He sat up and trapped Lagertha against the mattress. He tried to force her legs apart, until Lagertha kneed him in the groin.

"I am not your whore!" she yelled, "I am your wife!"

* * *

Everyone watched as the farmer who owned the shed was butchering one of the pigs. He had already killed it, now the carcass was hanging from the wooden frame.

Aslaug was not happy that her children had to see such a thing. She approached the group.

"Ubba, Hvitserk, come away", she urged them.

"But we want to watch", the little boy told his mother. Seeing the pig butchered was the most esciting thing that had happened in the past weeks. Siggy turned around and gave her a look, as if she wanted to tell her to get used to it. Aslaug, still not used to this lifestyle, turned away with tears in her eyes.

* * *

Rollo had begun to train Sansa. Aslaug had cried when she had learned that her daughter wanted to fight. This had been one week ago, and since then, Rollo had taken Sansa and their weapons down to the river, where they spend the day in training. They had decided, for the lack of choices as well as the easy handling, Sansa would only fight with a light throwing axe and a shield for now. Aside from that, she would be carrying a spear as well.

Her body was aching in the evenings, and every evening, there were fresh bruises on her body. Due to the rigorous training, Sansa's bruises had no time to heal, before they were covered by fresher bruises.

In the beginning, they had merely used sticks and shields, then they had progressed to iron weapons, wrapped in leather to cover the edges. And although Sansa still nursed her bruises every evening, she gradually became better.

"Never hesitate", Rollo told her, "If you worry about hurting me, then you will worry about hurting your opponent in battle. And then he will kill you."

Sansa nodded, then scrambled to her feet and swung her axe at Rollo, aiming for his head. Rollo raised his shield and let his sword connect with Sansa's shield. The force of the impact caused Sansa to drop it, and immediately Rollo swung his sword after her again. Sansa ducked away, the blade missing her face by a couple of inches. Sansa stepped closer, raised her upper body and thrusted her axe upward. She hit Rollo in the shoulder and he stepped back, surprised by her attack.

"See, you can do it", he encouraged her, "You just have to forget that you're fighting me – right now, I'm your enemy. Let's do it again!"

Sansa took her shield, then she charged at Rollo. Her axe raised high, she blocked his sword with the handle of the axe. She swung her shield, hitting Rollo in the upper arm. He stumbled a step back and Sansa was ready for the next attack, when the leather wrapped around Rollo's sword came loose. He swung his sword and could not stop the blade in time, before it cut through Sansa's face.

Sansa dropped back when the blade slashed through her cheek. She could feel the blood drip from her jaw as she looked up at Rollo, standing over her. Anger burned hot in her. She had lost her shield in the fall, but she took her axe and swung it at Rollo's belly. He parried with his shield, yet the axe forced him to drop it as well.

Sansa spat the blood out of her mouth, then swung at Rollo again. He avoided her swing and the axe cut through the air. He turned around and struck her with the pommel of his sword in the face.

Sansa saw stars as the heavy hilt of the sword connected with her nose. She could feel the blood running out of her nose, and she tried desperately to stay on her feet. After a few seconds, her vision cleared just in time to see the sword hilt come closer again. Sansa moved an inch to the side and was just missed. She rearranged her grip on her axe, then swung the wooden handle over Rollo's head, before she stepped in and grabbed him with both hands on his shoulders. Rollo tried to push her away, but Sansa held on to his shoulders and finally bowed her head back. She took aim and used her head to hit Rollo straight on his nose with her forehead.

They both fell to the ground, where they lay for a moment, panting.

"Well done, Sansa", Rollo finally caught enough breath to congratulate her, "Are you hurt badly?"

As the excitement wore off, Sansa said, "Yes, hurts a lot."

"Let me take a look", Rollo ordered her, "Can you still see from both eyes?"

"Yes, both eyes are still there", Sansa laughed.

Rollo looked closely at her face, poked around a little, and then said, "You were lucky, there is nothing really bad. It will give a scar, but nothing else. And you have never before won against me."

"You mean I did win?" Sansa asked enthusiastically.

"Normally, we might both be dead, but considering the time we've been training, I count that as your first win", Rollo said proudly, "We should better get home and bandage that cut. And I have to tell your mother what happened."

Sansa laughed, Aslaug would be furious, that Sansa had already gotten seriously hurt before the fight had begun.

* * *

Helga was standing outside of the hut, when she saw two longboats approach. As they crept upon the beach, Ragnar jumped overboard and waded to the shore.

"Are my family here?" he asked Helga.

"No", Helga answered, "But I know where they are. Siggy sent a boy to tell me."

"Take me there!" Ragnar ordered.

"Tomorrow, after you have slept", Helga calmed him, "It is a walk of several days."

* * *

In the meantime, the warriors had come ashore and had begun to unload the weapons and supplies. Floki came to Helga and sat down.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Thor was angry with us", he told her, "He kept beating his hammer and the waves grew ever taller. One boat went down, heavy with water. We heard the cries of the men. Then in the morning, we saw that another one had vanished, stormwrecked."

"I thank the gods that you are alive", Helga sighed.

* * *

It was raining heavily, as the group approached the lonely farm. Helga had led them all the way. As the houses came into sight, Ragnar could not himself back. He ran quickly to the houses.

Siggy was outside, milking the goat. As Ragnar came closer, she stood up, barely believing her eyes.

"They're inside", she told him.

Ragnar opened the door and was greeted by Ubba and Hvitserk who had thrown themselves in their father's arms.

"Father, you're back!" Hvitserk called. Ubba proudly held up his wooden sword, which Ragnar had given him at his departure.

"You still have it?" Ragnar asked proudly, "I love you two."

By now, Aslaug had stepped into the room.

"I knew you would come back, my love", she greeted him, "You have a new son."

She handed him the baby. Ragnar carefully held him and looked at his son. His eye was strange, its pupil was shaped like a snake.

"What did you call him?" he finally asked.

"His name is Sigurd Snake-in-the-eye" Aslaug told him.

"It is not a curse, it is a blessing", Ragnar stated, "Where is our daughter?"

"Sansa is fighting", Ubba enthused. Ragnar held up an inquiring eyebrow.

"She is training with Rollo, down by the river", Aslaug said, demonstrating what she thought of that idea, "She thinks she wants to fight now. And they've been training without end. They haven't even stopped when she nearly lost her eye."

* * *

Ragnar went back outside in the pouring rain. He walked down to the river, where he could see the schemes of his brother and daughter, clashing in the mud. They looked up when he walked nearer.

"Father!" Sansa called and hugged him tightly.

"Ragnar, welcome back to the shithole we call home", Rollo said.

"So you want to fight?" Ragnar asked his daughter, "At least that's what you mother says. She thinks it is not a great idea."

"I know what she thinks about it", Sansa sighed, "But I would rather die than watch everyone in my family being killed, again."

"Don't worry I understand," Ragnar calmed her, "But your mother may not. She told me something about you losing an eye?"

He looked at her face, examining the fresh scar on Sansa's cheek, the black eye and the mud in her hair.

"The leather wrapping came off accidentally", Rollo explained, "But I have never before seen her fight this good. And she's steadily improving."

"I don't want you to fight against Jarl Borg's warriors", Ragnar told her, "Not with only a few weeks of training."

"Please father, can you think about it?" Sansa begged. Ragnar sighed. She knew how to get her wishes.

"We will talk about it later in the evening", he said.

* * *

In the evening, Ragnar and Aslaug had just put the boys to bed. Rollo and Sansa were still outside, training. Ragnar stroked back Aslaug's hair.

"I was afraid that I would never see them again", he said, kissing her neck.

"No, we cannot have sex", Aslaug refused, "Not for three days."

"No more prophecies" Ragnar told her, kissing her, "I just want to feel your warmth."

* * *

Rollo and Sansa returned from the riverbank. They were both dripping wet, and huddled themselves next to the fire. Ragnar came from the bedroom and sat down next to them.

"I want to destroy Jarl Borg", he said, "I want to attack Kattegat and kill that son of a whore!"

"Then I must be frank with you, brother", Rollo told him, "I know that you lost men in the storm. It is a pity that you have not returned with more men. As it is, we have no chance of defeating Jarl Borg or regaining Kattegat."

"Then we will find more men", Ragnar argued.

"There are no more men", Rollo said, "Believe me, I've tried. And your arrival here has only made our discovery more certain."

"Whose idea was it for you to fight?" Ragnar asked Sansa.

"Mine", Sansa told him, "I have already told you my reasons - What do you say?"

"Let me see what you can, tomorrow", Ragnar told her, "Then I will give you my decision."

* * *

The next day, Sansa and Ragnar set out from the farm. They both carried their weapons and shields. They walked down to the river, where Sansa and Rollo had been training.

Sansa picked her axe from her belt and held her shield at the ready. Ragnar was only carrying his axe, for now. He charged and Sansa blocked his swing with her shield, before her axe connected with his shoulder. She punched him in the chest with the boss of her shield, and Ragnar stumbled back a few steps. Sansa attacked him, his axe just barely able to block the swing of Sansa's axe. He used his free hand to punch her in the belly, what made her crumble, before she hit him in the thigh with her axe.

Ragnar dropped his axe and used both of his hand to hold onto her shield and Sansa had no choice but to drop it. He discarded it and punched her in the face. Sansa could taste the blood as the impact drove her teeth into her tongue. She stepped back and spat the blood out.

She watched as Ragnar drew his sword and attacked her. She blocked his thrust at her belly, then tried to hit him in the chest. Ragnar was able to avoid the hit and Sansa's arm was hit by the blade. Sansa gritted her teeth from the sharp pain, but was still able to hold on to the axe. She twisted Ragnar's arm around and let her axe connect with his ribcage.

Finally, Ragnar waved off. They were both panting heavily, covered in blood and mud.

"You have learned a lot", Ragnar complimented her.

"I am your daughter", she answered, "And my former family were great fighters, it's in my blood. I just never realized it."

"If it is what you really want, then I will take you to meet Jarl Borg. In the meantime, you will keep training", Ragnar ordered, "Rollo and I will both see to it that you are able to meet them."

* * *

A couple of days later, Floki was standing outside the house, chopping wood, when he saw a large group of riders approaching.

"Ragnar! They're coming", he called back into the house. Ragnar quickly came outside, followed by Helga.

"Who is coming?" she asked.

"Who do you think? Jarl Borg and his men", Floki said, "They've come to finish us off."

Ragnar observed the riders as Floki was stepping next to him, fully armed. He smiled as he recognized their leader. He walked down to the path and waited for them.

"It has been a long time", he greeted them.

"Hello Ragnar", Lagertha smiled, "I have heard of your troubles. I brought these warriors to help you." She and her warriors dismounted from their horses. Lagertha stepped closer, as did the young man behind her.

"And you are?" Ragnar asked.

"I'm your…" he began and was silenced by Ragnar hugging his son.

"I always knew in my heart that I would see you again", Ragnar told him, "But I would never have guessed these circumstances."

"Who can guess the plans of the gods", Bjorn agreed, "But now they've decided to bring us back together, and I am glad for it."

Ragnar stepped back and looked over him in total.

"You have grown so tall", he said proudly, "When this is over, we shall have many stories to share."

"You and I, father are bound both by memories and blood", Bjorn declared.

"Seems that your mother and I have produced a son that is both strong and wise", Ragnar said.

"And If my sister had lived", Bjorn told them, "She would have been the same."

"You are right to carry her memory, as do I", Ragnar said, "Actually, you do have another sister. And she is the same."

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 _A/N: What do you think, how will Sansa fare against Jarl Borgs men?  
_

 _How will Bjorn react to having an older sister?_

 _Don't forget to review!_


	16. Answers in Blood

_A/N: Here we go, Vikings Season 2!_

 ** _I thank all those, who took the time to review! As well as all those who follow or favorited this story!  
_**

 ** _Unfortunately, my PC crashed some days ago. Until it's fixed, I am writing on my brother's, so my time is limited. I hope I can keep the updates steady, but the next one might be a bit delayed..._**

 _Family reunion! How will Bjorn react to Sansa as his sister?  
_

 _And will they all get through the battle with Jarl Borg unscathed?_

 _ **Warning:** Graphic violence ahead!_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of Thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 **Chapter 16 Answers in blood**

The door of the farm opened and everyone looked at the newly arrived ones. Lagertha entered, followed by Bjorn.

"Lagertha", Rollo greeted her, "You are about the last person I expected to see here. You and your warriors are more welcome than spring after the harshest and coldest winter."

"My son and I are glad that we can help Ragnar", Lagertha told him as Bjorn stepped next to her.

"Bjorn! Freya and all the gods, have you grown!" Rollo said as he looked up and down at Bjorn, "Still can't grow a beard, though." He stepped aside and Floki came forward. He looked deeply into Bjorn's eyes, then began to smile.

"Yes", he enthused, "You stayed true to your path!" He hugged Bjorn tightly.

* * *

Lagertha had stepped further into the room and was hugging Siggy, when Aslaug and her children entered the room.

"I am glad to see you, Lagertha", Aslaug greeted her.

"Thank you, princess Aslaug", Lagertha replied, "I have brought warriors to help our cause."

The silence between them became a little awkward, when Bjorn had finished greeting the others and stepped towards Aslaug.

"Princess", he greeted her.

"My sons, Ubba and Hvitserk", Aslaug introduced them. Lagertha bowed down to the little boys, and smiled.

"I always knew, that someday, I would meet some more sons of Ragnar", she told them.

"How'd you know?" Ubba asked surprised.

"The gods told me", Lagertha smiled and stood back up, "And you have a baby? May I?"

Aslaug carefully handed the baby over to Lagertha, who took him just as careful and smiled down on him.

"His name is Sigurd Snake-in-the-eye", Aslaug told them.

"I don't want to pry", Bjorn said, "But I heard something about a girl as well…"

"I have no idea where she is, most of the time", Aslaug smiled mischievously, "But I think you will find her down at the river."

Bjorn quickly ran outside, while Lagertha stayed behind with Aslaug.

"You let her out of the house alone?" Lagertha asked, puzzled.

"Why not?" Aslaug replied, "She is old enough."

"She can't be older than Ubba", Lagertha wondered, "And you don't let him out much alone."

"She is older, and I am not her real mother", Aslaug explained, "Ragnar and I adopted Sansa."

Lagertha laughed. "Then Bjorn is in for a big surprise", she said, "But I always knew that Ragnar had a little soft spot for her."

* * *

Bjorn walked down to the river, where he saw a young woman swinging an axe around casually. She then stopped and took a close look at the head, before she used a hammer to fasten it a little more.

"Hello brother", she said as Bjorn stepped behind her. He froze. He had expected a little girl and had thought that this young shield maiden probably had the ungrateful duty of watching her.

Sansa turned around and smiled. "Are you lost for words, Bjorn?" she giggled. Finally Bjorn was able to gather his thoughts. He _did_ know her.

"Sansa?!" he asked with his mouth wide open in surprise.

"Yes it's me, _brother_ " she smiled, "So what do you think?"

"I thought I was looking for a little girl that snuck out from her mother's view", Bjorn admitted, "I would have never guessed, I would find an experienced shield maiden as sister, so I assume that father adopted you some time after we left?"

"Yes, he did", Sansa agreed, "And I will still remember my old family, but I have found another family that I love just as much, and so I agreed to be a part of that family."

"I think we should go back now", Bjorn said, "They will want to make plans."

"Sure", Sansa agreed, "And I have to disappoint you what my experience as shield maiden concerns. I have not fought a single battle…"

Bjorn looked once more at her face. "For never before fighting, that is a big scar on your face", he told her. Sansa laughed out loudly.

"Have you ever fought our uncle?" she grinned.

"No", Bjorn admitted, "Did he do this?"

"Even after the adoption, I did not want to become a fighter", she told him, "But after the attack, I changed my mind. So I asked him to teach me. Some weeks ago, he accidentally cut me in the face."

* * *

When they reached the farm, Ragnar and the others were already awaiting them.

"When you're finished catching up, can we make a plan?" Ragnar asked impatiently.

"Sure", Sansa grumbled. Bjorn and Sansa sat down on the table where the others awaited them.

"Even with your additional forces, Lagertha, we cannot attack Kattegat and hope to succeed", Thorstein explained the situation, "Jarl Borg is well dug in."

"We want to drive Jarl Borg out of Kattegat", Rollo added.

"And what would make him leave the town, where he can winter in safety?" Thorstein wanted to know.

"The one thing that threatens his whole existence there", Rollo told them, "Food. Some of us will go into Kattegat and destroy the winter grain stores."

Lagertha nodded in agreement. The plan was dangerous, but good.

"I will go", Floki offered.

"No, my son and I shall go", Ragnar objected, "We will only need a few men."

* * *

Night had fallen over Kattegat, as Ragnar, Bjorn and two of the others were sneaking into the town. The ducked behind a fence and counted the guards.

"Ulrik, Erik, go through the woods, until you reach the far side of the town", Ragnar ordered, "Once you're there, create some kind of distraction that leads the guards away. My son and I shall do the rest."

The two warriors stood up and quickly disappeared in the dark. Ragnar looked at Bjorn and smiled.

"Ever since you were a little boy, all I heard was 'Father! Father! I want to fight'" he remembered, "Well, here we are."

They stood up and carefully walked in between the houses towards the grain stocks. Then they heard Ulrik's horn, sounding from the other side of the town. The guards looked up and ran towards the noise.

* * *

Sansa was sitting in the camp, her back leaning against a tree. Unable to find sleep, her mind drifted to her father and her newfound brother, risking their lives to draw Jarl Borg's forces out of the town.

"You're far to pretty to make such a sorrowful face", she heard someone say next to her. When she looked over her shoulder, she saw a young warrior, one of Lagertha's, standing next to her.

"I can't help it", Sansa replied, blushing.

"You don't need to worry", the young warrior told her, "Tomorrow we will crush Jarl Borg. You can go home soon."

"I don't know", Sansa answered, unwilling to reveal her fear for Bjorn and Ragnar, "I don't feel like I'm ready to fight."

"I'm sure you are", he smiled, "Otherwise your Earl surely wouldn't have accepted you as a shield maiden. Everything will be fine. I'm Gunnar, by the way."

"Sansa."

* * *

A guard was still standing close to Ragnar and Bjorn, but his companions had left their posts. Ragnar quickly aimed, then threw his axe and split the guard's skull. He recovered his axe and they walked further through the town.

Erik was sneaking through the streets, trying to meet up with Ragnar and Bjorn again, when two dogs appeared in front of him. They hesitated a moment, then they were released by their handlers and charged at the warrior.

Ulrik suddenly found himself surrounded by guards. He was already holding his sword at the ready and attacked. He cut the first one down while the other one dug his blade into Ulrik's side. Ulrik turned around and tried to strangle his opponent and they fell together to the ground. Finally, Ulrik was able to get a hold of his sword and dug it between the guard's ribs.

* * *

Sansa felt how her tenseness eased as the night went on. Chatting with Gunnar, laughing and smiling did wonders for her.

"I never knew that such beautiful women grow in Kattegat", Gunnar complimented as the moon lighted Sansa's face. Her red hair was falling down to her shoulders in several braids and she turned as red as her hair upon hearing the compliment.

"I'm not that special", Sansa said politely, "You are too kind."

"Then the men of Kattegat must be extraordinarily lucky", Gunnar smiled, "To live in a town where such a beautiful woman is nothing special."

Sansa blushed once more and smiled at him shyly. Gunnar hesitated for a moment, then their lips met in a soft kiss.

* * *

Ragnar was looking at another guard standing in front of the grain stores. He had his axe ready, should it be needed. Bjorn snuck around the other side of the house and cut the man's throat with his knife. He fell to the ground silently.

Ragnar handed Bjorn back his axe, then they opened the storage compound. Ragnar grabbed a handful of straw from the roofs, then tried to make a fire.

"Wait", Bjorn cautioned him, as he heard someone move outside the compound. Ulrik stumbled through the gate.

"You're wounded", Bjorn said.

"Don't worry about me", Ulrik replied and watched as the others started the fire. As soon as they had achieved a little glow, they added the straw and carefully blew into the fire, to let it grow bigger. They distributed the burning straw and threw some in each of the grain stocks. They added some more straw from the roof, then escaped from the town, as the fire lit their way.

* * *

Jarl Borg and his men were following the traces of the attackers, led by their dogs. Finally, when they had reached an open field, Borg saw a man sitting on a rotten tree at the middle of the clearing. They carefully walked closer, expecting the man to attack them. He was wearing no tunic and holding on to his spear. He stoically waited as Jarl Borg walked closer.

The Jarl was about to speak to the man, when he realized that the man had not moved at all. He looked in his face and then pushed him a little. The lifeless body of Ulrik fell to the floor.

Jarl Borg sighed in exasperation. He looked up, when he heard a horn. Floki was standing on the edge of the clearing, waving at him. As he watched, Ragnar and the others stepped out from the woods and faced him. Slowly, the line grew longer and longer, as more warriors stepped on the clearing.

Both armies formed their shield walls and clashed. Sansa, Ragnar, Bjorn, Rollo, Lagertha and the other leaders were standing in the first line, hacking at the opposing force.

Bjorn swung his sword violently, hitting Jarl Borg's men in front of him. One after the other fell under his violent attack.

Ragnar was stabbing his sword after his opponents. One of them fell and his head was trapped between the legs of the warriors. Ragnar punched him in the back of the head with the edge of his shield, before cutting his throat with his sword.

Lagertha cut down the warrior in front of her, when one of her enemies tried to go for the weak spot in the shield wall, where Lagertha's side was open. Being busy, she did not see the attack coming and was saved by Rollo, thrusting his shield into the gap.

Sansa had just pulled her axe out of her opponent's head, when another one swung his sword at her. She quickly raised her shield and brought her axe down, cutting into the attacker's leg. He squirmed and Sansa buried her axe in his neck.

Jarl Borg was wielding two axes, standing behind his own shield wall. "Hold the shield wall!" he ordered.

Floki lunged forward, and stabbed his knife over the enemy's shields. Lagertha chopped her opponent's head off and Rollo buried the blade of his sword in another man's chest.

* * *

Ragnar took a step back and watched Jarl Borg. Both leaders locked their eyes, then Borg nodded to one of his men. On a horn signal, several of his men retreated from the fight and assembled behind the shield wall. A little too late, Ragnar realized, what he was about to do.

"Brace!" Ragnar shouted, "Be ready! Stay on your feet!"

On a command from Jarl Borg, the group charged into the clashing shield walls, making Ragnar's shield wall crumble under the impact. Bjorn and several others were thrown backwards.

Ragnar and Lagertha quickly charged through the melee and tried to get to Bjorn who was still lying on his back.

"Get up!" Ragnar shouted. Bjorn kept looking around for his axe, then finally stood up, just in time to avoid a killing blow from one of his opponents. He shoved the attacker to the ground and dug his axe in his neck.

Sansa was still standing, mainly because she was standing on a different part of the shield wall. She blocked an axe aimed at her head, when she saw a sword aimed at her belly. She blocked with her shield and was hit on her nose by a shield. For a moment, the air was forced out of her lungs, as she could feel the blood running down her chin, then she thrusted her axe into her opponent's face.

Lagertha looked over her shoulder to her son, when she was attacked by another warrior. She was barely able to defend herself, before she cut him down.

Thorstein was pushed to the ground by one of the warriors, who was ready for a killing blow, when Floki snuck up behind him. He used his knife to cut the attacker's throat and quickly helped his friend up.

Ragnar was cutting down Jarl Borg's men one by one. He had dropped the shield and was barely stopping for his opponents.

"I am with you, Ragnar!" Rollo shouted. He also had dropped his shield and was quickly cutting the opponents down with his sword. Both brothers were an unstoppable force, they did not even need the time to stop for each man they killed. They merely kept walking, slashing and stabbing in passing.

Jarl Borg saw that Ragnar was coming closer and decided to run. He turned around and cut down a shield maiden who attacked him.

Rollo threw an axe at a warrior who was charging at Ragnar undetected. Ragnar avoided a spear thrust, and slashed another attacker over the belly. He finally saw Jarl Borg and threw his axe.

Now Ragnar was unarmed and was tackled to the ground by one of Jarl Borg's men. Rollo leaped forward and strangled the attacker.

Ragnar finally stood up, and walked over to the man he had hit with his axe. He looked like Jarl Borg, but when Ragnar turned the body around to look at his face, he realized it was not his main enemy.

Jarl Borg himself had made it to the horses and was now quickly riding away. The forces of Ragnar and Lagertha quickly finished off those who remained.

* * *

Bjorn stepped next to his father and uncle.

"You fought well today, Bjorn", Rollo told him.

"Thank you, uncle", Bjorn answered. Ragnar turned around and glared at him, "You have a lot to learn", he told him.

* * *

Sansa let her eyes sweep over the battlefield until she saw Gunnar. The young warrior was standing among some others, most of them bearing the stylized Yggdrasil of Hedeby on their shields. He caught her glance and walked over to her casually.

"I never realized who you were last night", he said apologetically, "You could have told me that you are an Earl's daughter."

"Does it change anything?" Sansa challenged him, "After all, it was just a kiss."

"Well, you are still beautiful", Gunnar smiled, "Although your face is covered in blood. Didn't I tell you it would be alright?"

"You did", Sansa admitted with a laugh.

* * *

Everyone cheered as Ragnar and the others returned to Kattegat. The remaining inhabitants greeted them warmly. Everyone was celebrated and praised.

Lagertha received a lot of greetings from her old friends, while Bjorn was almost overlooked. It had been so long since anyone in town had seen him that no one realized who he was.

The next day, everyone was assembled at the market place. Rollo was standing in the middle of the crowd.

"Today we thank the gods for our victory over Jarl Borg", he said.

Thorstein and Floki led a captured soldier of Jarl Borg's force through the crowd. Rollo took the axe.

"Release him from his bonds", Rollo ordered, "He surely wants to die well."

Floki quickly undid the knots on the ties, then the prisoner knelt down.

"In the presence of the gods and in their honor", Rollo said, "We offer this sacrifice."

"Stop!" came it from the great hall. Ragnar stepped forward, and took the axe from Rollo's hands. Rollo seemed reluctant, but finally handed the axe over. Ragnar handed it to Bjorn, who hesitatingly stepped forward.

"In the presence of the gods and in their honor, I offer this sacrifice", he said, as the axe came down on the prisoner's neck.

* * *

Late in the afternoon, Sansa literally ran into someone at the marketplace.

"I'm sorry", she muttered, before looking into his face, "Gunnar?!"

"I have to say, you have a pretty hard skull", he smiled, pressing his own hand against his head to dull the pain, "I was worried that you'd be avoiding me…"

"Why would I?" Sansa asked.

"I feared you regretted what happened before the battle", Gunnar admitted.

"I don't regret any of it", Sansa clarified, "What have you been up to?"

"I've gotten lost in this town", Gunnar laughed, "It's bigger than Hedeby. The only thing I seem to find is the great hall and the pier."

"Need a guide?" Sansa offered with a smile.

* * *

Several days later, Sansa watched as Bjorn was playing with their brothers. They were pinning him down to the ground and he was laughing happily.

Aslaug sat down next to Ragnar.

"I am going to bear you another son", she prophesized, "But I am fearful of the prophecy."

"I know", Ragnar told her, "But we cannot alter the fate."

"What are you going to do about Lagertha?" Aslaug asked.

"What do you mean 'what am I going to do?' I never had any choice whether she comes or goes", Ragnar sighed, "But I will not tell her to go if she does not want to."

"Then maybe I shall go", Aslaug said furiously, "Maybe you prefer because she is a shield maiden."

"I don't prefer her", Ragnar answered, kissing Aslaug. They both pulled back their heads when they heard thunder from the sky.

* * *

Ragnar was walking through the rain. Finally, he reached the house and knocked. Siggy opened the door.

"Can I come in, please?" Ragnar asked. Siggy opened the door and let him enter the house. Rollo and Lagertha were sitting on the fire.

"I came to talk to…" Ragnar began, but Rollo interrupted him, "We all know why you are here." He stood up and left the room together with Siggy.

Ragnar waited till they had closed the door behind them, then stepped to the fire and warmed his hands.

"I was wondering…" he began.

"You were wondering what I was going to do", Lagertha smiled.

"Yes", Ragnar confirmed, "Regarding my son."

"I don't know", Lagertha admitted, "Bjorn is very happy here…"

"Then he should stay", Ragnar suggested, "You both should stay."

"Your wife would not be happy about that", Lagertha teased him.

"I suppose not", Ragnar agreed, smiling mischievously.

* * *

A week later, Ragnar was sitting judge over some farmers disputing the borders of their lands.

"In this case, I think that he is a victim of his bad reputation", Ragnar finally declared, "I believe, the accusers only assumed that we should confiscate his land. Now I find that he shall keep his lands and the accusers shall…"

Ragnar looked around, thinking until his eye caught his son, holding up three fingers.

"…the accusers shall give him three sheep", he declared, "All in favor say 'Meeh'"

Everyone in the room agreed. They all became silent, when a stranger entered the great hall.

"Thorvald", Ragnar greeted the guest, "I hope you bring better news than the last time."

"Forgive me, Lord Ragnar", Thorvald said, "After you left, the Saxons treacherously attacked King Horik's camp. It was a great slaughter, many warriors perished. The King and his son barely escaped with their lives."

"And what about Athelstan?" Ragnar asked. Thorvald looked at him in confusion.

"My Lord, I don't know of whom you are talking", he said.

They were interrupted as Lagertha entered the hall, clad in her battle gear.

"I have something to say", she announced, "I have made a decision. I realize that my son is very happy here with his father and his siblings, and I cannot blame him for that. I happily give my permission so he can stay here."

She took a deep breath and continued, "But I cannot stay. I have to return to my husband. I have a duty to fulfill, but I leave my only son in your hands."

* * *

Sansa and Bjorn watched as Lagertha prepared her horse. The other warriors from Hedeby were also getting ready to depart. Everyone had come to say goodbye, even Aslaug. Sansa and Gunnar locked their eyes for a moment, they had said their goodbyes earlier, away from everyone else.

"There are no words to describe what you have done for us", Aslaug told Lagertha, "I will be forever in your debt."

"The debt is already paid", Lagertha told her.

She hugged Bjorn and Sansa, then climbed onto her horse.

"Don't take any more shit", Bjorn reminded her.

"Who do you think I am?" Lagertha called as she rode away.

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 _A/N:_ _ **A special thanks to mpowers045 for the suggestion how Sansa meets her love interest!**_

 _Will Sansa and Bjorn get used to living as siblings?  
_

 _Just so you understand how Sansa's scar looks like: Try imagine Tyrion's scar after the battle of the blackwater (the TV version **not** the book version!)..._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	17. Unforgiven

_A/N: Here we go, Vikings Season 2!_

 ** _Thank you for your reviews! As well as all those who follow or favorited this story!  
_**

 _I finally found a picture that fits... I imagine that's how Sansa looks like now! The shieldmaiden Sansa...  
_

 ** _Unfortunately, my PC crashed some days ago. Until it's fixed, I am writing on my brother's, so my time is limited. I hope I can keep the updates steady, but the next one might be a bit delayed..._**

 _Bjorn settles in Kattegat and King Horik pays a visit...  
_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of Thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

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 **Chapter 17 Unforgiven**

A single ship approached the pier of Kattegat. It carried King Horik and Erlendur, returning from Wessex. After they had been greeted, Ragnar invited them to eat in the great hall.

"Forgive the poverty of the feast", Ragnar apologized, "It's been a hard winter. We had to burn our own grain stocks, to rid ourselves from Jarl Borg."

"So I heard", King Horik agreed.

"Erlendur", Ragnar addressed Horik's son, "Tell us what happened after we left."

Erlendur took a nervous sip from his cup, so Horik spoke up, "Your friend Athelstan arranged for further negotiations. In retrospect I wonder whose side he was on. In any way, King Egbert never meant to honor his pledge. We were treacherously attacked, there was a great slaughter."

"And what about Athelstan?" Ragnar wanted to know.

"I don't know", Horik replied, "If he was lucky, he died in battle. Let's not talk about him, for he was a worthless individual."

"Poor Athelstan, my sister and I grew to love him when we were children", Bjorn remembered.

"We should rejoice over his death", Floki objected, "He never renounced his false gods."

Ragnar shot him an angry glance, then asked, "What do you intend on doing now, King Horik?"

"What do you think?" Horik answered, "I plan my revenge on King Egbert."

"King Egbert should certainly be punished", Rollo agreed, "I would gladly take part in it."

"But first, Jarl Borg has to pay the price for what he did to my family", Ragnar reminded him.

A young woman was serving the drinks. She was refilling the cups when she dropped her can over Bjorn's lap. His pants were dripping with Ale and he looked up.

"Forgive me, Master", the servant said. She had shoulder long blond hair and was wearing a simple woolen dress.

"It doesn't matter", Bjorn calmed her. Nevertheless, she quickly stepped away from the table and left the room.

"I understand completely", Horik told Ragnar, "But we have to remember our agreement, and what it was for. We wanted to sail west, to colonize. But now we have neither the ships nor the men."

"What do you propose?" Ragnar asked.

"I think we should go back to Jarl Borg", Horik told him, "He is licking his wounds, as are we. We need his ships and men."

"Have you forgotten what this man has put us through?" Aslaug asked Ragnar.

Sansa had listened to the conversation quietly and had been thinking. She realized the potential of the King's proposal. She finally bowed over to her father and whispered in his ear, so no one else could hear it.

"You should invite him", she said loudly, before whispering, "It will be much easier to kill him if he comes here on his own."

Ragnar looked in her eyes then hinted a smile. He kissed her on her forehead, then turned to the conversation and nodded.

"Who should go to Jarl Borg?" Rollo asked in the meantime.

"I think it should be you, Rollo", King Horik said, "After all, you know him better than any one of us."

* * *

"It has an unusual taste, wine", Horik said as he drank from his cup, "But then again, you are an unusual woman, Siggy."

Siggy sat in front of him, holding her own cup. Erlendur had joined them on his father's wish.

"I don't like it", the younger man said and spat back in his cup.

"I takes a higher taste for the finer things in life", Horik said, "I hope you don't mind that I brought my son with me. It is time that he understands the game."

"The game?" Siggy asked.

"The game you and I are playing", Horink told her, "The game Ragnar _tries_ to play."

"Are you sure it is a game?" Siggy wanted to know.

"Why do you invite me to your bed?" Horik asked directly, "Why do you keep telling me things?"

"Everything I do, I do for Rollo", Siggy explained, "If Rollo rises, I do also."

"And you need my help", Horik smiled. He shot a glance at Erlendur, who was sitting uninterested at his side.

"My son is ignorant of the game", Horik declared, And strangely ignorant of other things. He has only been with a few women and they were nothing – slaves, girls… I want him to have the attentions of an experienced, free woman."

Siggy sat back for a second, then she realized the true nature of the King's proposal. She thought about it in silence and finally nodded. Siggy stood up and went to her bedroom, where she dropped her gown. Naked she stood there in the middle of the room and looked at Erlendur.

"Come", she said.

* * *

In Hedeby, Earl Sigvard was leaning on his chair, heavily drunk.

"My wife has returned to me, and I love her for it", he declared, "What husband would not be pleased with the return of such a wife. But she left my stepson behind."

"He is old enough to decide", Lagertha reminded him, "Is it not enough that I came back?"

"No, it's not enough, it's an insult", the Earl muttered.

"What else could I have done?" Lagertha asked, "His father is Ragnar Lothbrok."

"Who is this Ragnar Lothbrok? Nothing but a windbag, an opportunist", Sigvard raged, "A man so bloated, he pretends to be descendant from Odin."

"He doesn't need to pretend anything", Lagertha said, standing up angrily.

"Now I know why you went to help him", Sigvard grinned, "You are still _in love_ with Ragnar Lothbrok. You can sleep alone tonight. I have made other arrangements."

* * *

Lagertha was lying awake in her bed. Something was wrong this night. Not that her husband did not share her bed, he had done this before. But something kept her awake. A sense of imminant danger.

She sat up when she heard steps before her door. Quickly and silently, she got up and blew out the candle. She stood next to the door, waiting.

She had barely stopped moving, when the door flew open and several of her husband's warriors entered the room. She punched the first one in the face and he fell back. She kicked after the second one, then the third one grabbed her and threw her on the bed. They let clubs hammer down on her and while Lagertha fought back, and even scored a few hits, she was eventually knocked out.

* * *

Bjorn was watching the slave girl, the one that had dropped the can of Ale in his lap. She was probably a year younger than he was and had blonde hair. She was slim built and had a pretty face.

Bjorn watched as she was carrying two buckets, heavy with water, when she turned around.

"Can I help you, Master?" the slave asked.

"I was going to ask you the same question", Bjorn answered, "Those buckets look very heavy."

"I'm used to it", she replied.

"What is your name?" Bjorn asked, "Sit."

"Thorunn", she answered shyly, "I must finish my work."

"It is alright", Bjorn calmed her down, "Where do you sleep?"

"In that barn", she indicated, "With the other servants. And Animals."

"And do you have a boyfriend?" Bjorn wanted to know.

Thorunn gave a snort. "Of course", she replied.

* * *

In Götland, Rollo was impatiently waiting for Jarl Borg. While he was pacing in the room, he was watched by Torvi, Jarl Borg's pregnant wife.

"You are safe here", she finally said.

Jarl Borg entered the room and placed a human skull on the table in front of him.

"The skull of my first wife", he explained, "She continues to advise me."

"Is that fair to her?" Rollo asked, pointing at Torvi. Jarl Borg merely shrugged.

"So, your brother wants me to come and fight for him?" Borg asked skeptically.

"He wants to rebuild the original alliance", Rollo told him, "They need you to raid west."

"He is not looking for revenge?" Borg said doubtingly.

"Men like you and I will always look for revenge", Rollo replied, "Ragnar looks beyond."

"What do you think, my love?" Jarl Borg asked the skull, "Do you think I should go?"

Torvi watched in annoyance as he moved his head closer as if listening to the skull.

"She thinks I should go", he finally declared.

* * *

Aslaug was sitting on the great hall's porch, and Sansa was playing with Ubba next to her. They had just watched Bjorn talk with Thorunn.

"She's remarkably good looking", Aslaug said, "For a slave".

"There are pretty ones among the slaves as well, mother", Sansa replied, "Don't forget I was once a slave."

"You are right, "Aslaug apologized, "But why did you favor the agreement with Jarl Borg? Did you forget what he did to us? My father would never have left such an insult unpunished."

"I have not forgotten", Sansa reminded her, "And your father can not do too much, being dead. And neither can my old father, my mother, or my brother. Yet it is the best thing we can do to rebuild the agreement."

"But…" Aslaug began.

"Drop it, mother", Sansa interrupted her, "I know what I'm doing."

* * *

Jarl Borg had arrived in the afternoon with three ships in Kattegat. Now the time for a feast had come. Everyone had joined together in the great hall. Jarl Borg was walking among the inhabitants of Kattegat, until he had found Ragnar and Rollo. Ragnar pointed at the chair next to him.

"I can say in all honesty, _Earl_ Ragnar", Borg stated, "That you are a greater man that I am. I know I don't deserve the chance you've given me, but I swear on my arm ring, from henceforth, you have no reason to doubt my loyalty and my commitment to our common cause."

Ragnar took a bite from his bread. "If we're being honest", he answered, "It was King Horik's idea of restoring our alliance. I was reluctant at first, but my daughter convinced me finally, that it was the right thing to do."

"Your daughter?" Jarl Borg was surprised.

"She made me realize what could be gained by inviting you here", Ragnar told him.

"We have a lot to gain, when we work together", Jarl Borg agreed, "And a lot to lose if we don't – even I can see that now."

"Thorstein, put Jarl Borg's men in the barn, which the servant's use", Ragnar ordered, "And treat them with respect."

"Of course, my lord", Thorstein replied.

Jarl Borg watched as Sansa took place next to her uncle.

"Jarl Borg, may I introduce you to my precious daughter", Ragnar said, "She is the one that argued for your return here."

Jarl Borg raised his cup and saluted her.

"So it is you I must thank for this opportunity", he said, "I am grateful. Tell me, what happened to your face? That looks like a nasty cut."

Sansa smiled at him, "One of your men happened to my face, Jarl Borg", she replied, "I fought alongside my family during the battle."

"You are a true shield maiden then, my dear", Borg complimented her, "And a most forgiving person if you still don't want to kill me."

"I am not a shield maiden, yet. I fought for the first time, when we met on the field of battle", Sansa smiled, "I want to kill you, but I can see behind the anger over our quarrel. We need you as much as you need us."

* * *

In Hedeby, Lagertha was sitting passively at the table. She had woken in the morning, bruised all over her body and she had been raped. Although she had been beaten unconscious, she was sure, there were more than one involved.

"What is the matter with you, my love?" Sigvard asked her, "You don't talk, you don't smile. You must do better than this." Lagertha threw him an angry glare with her black eyes.

"My wife has the most beautiful breasts in the world", the drunk Earl said, standing up, "Let me show you!"

He stepped behind Lagertha and tried to rip her dress apart, when Lagertha took her eating knife from the table. She stood up in a swift motion, turned around and stabbed her husband in the eye.

The whole room went silent. Earl Sigvard fell to the floor, screaming in agony. Lagertha stood over her dying husband, the bloody blade still in her hand.

One of the Earl's stewards, Einar, stood up and drew his sword. He slowly walked towards Lagertha who stepped back, carefully preparing her for the sword that was going to cut her down.

Instead, Einar stepped behind the dying Earl and with a powerful blow, chopped his head off.

* * *

Night had fallen over Kattegat, everyone was asleep. But for a town asleep, there was a lot of activity. Ragnar was sitting out on the beach, a raven on his shoulder, while he was staring out into the dark.

Thorstein and several others snuck up on the barn, where the men of Jarl Borg had been brought. They quickly closed the door and locked it.

"All you folk in the barn, if you want to live, stay silent!" Thorstein told them. They all waited in silence for a minute, until Rollo approached. He was carrying a torch. He quickly set the straw afire which was close to the door. By the time, those trapped in the barn had realized their intentions, it was too late to stop them.

* * *

Floki was walking through the streets, to the point where he was to meet Rollo, Thorstein and Sansa. He turned around the corner and saw the three.

"Where have you been?" Thorstein asked impatiently.

"Here and there, up and down", Floki answered cheerfully.

"Where's Bjorn?" Sansa asked, "He was supposed to be with you."

* * *

Bjorn was guiding Thorunn through the great hall towards his room.

"Come", he encouraged her, "You can sleep here, if you want."

"No, I can't" Thorunn said.

"Why not?" Bjorn asked her.

"This is your place", Thorunn declared, "I can't stay here."

"What if I ordered you to stay here?" Bjorn wanted to know.

"Then I would have to obey your command", Thorunn said reluctantly.

"I don't want you to order you to stay", Bjorn said, looking deep in her eyes, "I want you to choose to stay here."

Thorunn hesitated for a moment, then undid the straps that held her dress in place. With her breasts bare, she asked, "Is this what you want, Master?"

* * *

The door flew open and Torvi sat upright in her bed. Her husband, Jarl Borg was standing before the bed, his sword in his hand, facing the intruders. Rollo, Thorstein, Floki and Sansa had entered the room, all were armed.

"Good evening, Jarl Borg", Rollo said, "I told you, I always look for revenge."

"Didn't you say there was a lot to be gained by cooperating?" Borg adressed Sansa.

"I said there was a lot to be gained by inviting you here", she replied.

Jarl Borg nodded amused, then lunged forward with his sword. Rollo used his free hand to grab Borg's sword hand and he held his axe against his throat. Jarl Borg reluctantly let go of his sword, and was held by Thorstein and Floki. They kept beating him, their fists hammering down on the Jarl, until he was barely able to lift himself from the floor.

* * *

King Horik entered the great hall.

"What is all the commotion?" he called. He looked around and saw only Hvitserk sitting on his father's high chair.

"I am sorry that the ambiance of Kattegat has awoken you", Ragnar said, coming from his room.

"What is going on?" Horik asked. In this moment, the doors opened and Thorstein and Floki dragged the unconscious Jarl Borg to Ragnar's feet. Sansa entered behind them, dragging Torvi by her arms.

"Is he dead?" Horik asked.

"Not yet", Floki rejoiced and kicked the lifeless figure. A short grunt was to be heard.

"Did you really think that I could forgive this man?" Ragnar asked the King, "The man who threatened to kill my family?"

"What will you do now?" Horik demanded to know. Ragnar bowed down to Jarl Borg.

"Since you consort with eagles", he told him, "I will draw a blood eagle on your back."

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 _A/N: Don't ask why this one was so short, I have no idea how it happened...  
_

 _Don't forget to review!_


	18. Blood Eagle

_A/N: Here we go, Vikings Season 2!_

 ** _Thank you for your reviews! As well as all those who follow or favorited this story!  
_**

 ** _As of right now, this story has 5,000 Views! Thank you guys!_**

 _My new PC is finally set up correctly! Finally I don't have to argue with my brother for the use of his anymore!  
_

 _ **Warning: Graphical violence in this chapter!** The Vikings fans among you probably know what I mean..._

 _Jarl Borg is in chains and still plots against Ragnar..._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of Thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

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 **Chapter 18 Blood Eagle**

The snow was falling over Kattegat, when King Horik and Erlendur entered the great hall. Ragnar and Rollo were sitting there, Ragnar holding a squirming rat over the fire.

"Are you going to proceed with the execution of Jarl Borg?" the King demanded to know.

"I am", Ragnar informed him.

"I understand your reasons", the King agreed, "But without Jarl Borg's ships and warriors, we will not be able to mount a successful attack on Wessex."

Ragnar skinned the rat and chopped its head off. "We will find another ally", he said, "I have sent out word."

"Are you suggesting that my brother should treat Jarl Borg as if nothing happened?" Rollo said curiously.

"No, I am merely saying, you should wait until we have found another ally", Horik told him, "The execution of Jarl Borg may discourage potential allies."

"Fine", Ragnar sighed, "I shall wait."

The king and his son turned around, about the leave the hall, when Ragnar asked, "At least we are still allies, King Horik?"

"I want my revenge on King Egbert, and I shall have it", Horik stated, "Come with me."

* * *

Floki was sitting in his workshop chiseling away at a piece of wood. Helga approached him from behind and slung her arms around him.

"I have some news", she said, "I'm carrying a child."

Floki kept looking at his work.

"Are you not happy?" Helga asked.

"I am happy", Floki finally said, "It fills me with great joy. Floki the carpenter, Floki the fisherman, Floki the father. Poor child to be cursed with such a father."

"You mustn't say that", Helga said, "You will be a wonderful father."

"You are right, we should be happy", Floki agreed reluctantly, "Let's get married, Helga. There is no one else for me."

"Yes, I will marry you", she answered, "And all our friends will be there, Thorstein and Ragnar…"

"No, not Ragnar", Floki refused.

"But…" Helga began.

"I have known him a long time", Floki explained, "I helped him rise, I built his ships, and now he is _Earl_ Ragnar. But he cannot have everything, he cannot have you and me."

* * *

Ragnar and his family were sitting on the fire in the great hall. Ragnar had told his sons a bedtime story, before he had brought them to their beds. Sansa had fallen asleep early, and Ragnar and Bjorn were sitting next to each other on the table. Bjorn was deep in thoughts, barely speaking the whole evening.

"What is troubling you?" Ragnar asked.

"You don't trust me", Bjorn stated, "But you trust Sansa."

"When did I not trust you?" Ragnar asked in confusion.

"The night you captured Jarl Borg", Bjorn reminded him, "You told me nothing of it. But Sansa knew about it."

"I sent someone to get you", Ragnar told his son, "They could not find you. Where were you?"

"I was with Thorunn", Bjorn stated.

"Then you chose to be with her, rather than me", Ragnar told him.

"I only ask to be kept in your confidence as your son", Bjorn said.

"I will decide how far I keep you in my confidence", Ragnar replied, "And as a father I will give you some advice: Think with your head, not with your dick."

* * *

Jarl Borg was lying on the floor of his prison. His hand and feet were chained, he was dirty, hungry and thirsty. He barely moved when someone entered the cell.

"Have you come here to gloat?" he asked the visitor, "Have you ever seen someone being blood-eagled before? I am told that it's the most brutal, painful death, but it can be truly astonishing to those who watch…"

"I will take no pleasure in your death, Jarl Borg", King Horik said, handing the prisoner a cup of water.

"Once you would not have spoken these words", Borg remembered.

"Certain things have changed", the King admitted.

"Ragnar Lothbrok has humiliated you, by capturing me", Borg smiled, "That is only the start for his ambitions."

"What do you mean?" Horik asked.

"Ragnar Lothbrok wants to be _king._ Is that not obvious, _King_ Horik?" Borg smiled, "Who could blame him? His fame eclipses even yours…"

"Let us assume for a moment that I believe you, what would you have me do?" Horik wanted to know.

"I would arrange for my escape", Jarl Borg proposed, "Then I would kill Ragnar Lothbrok and make his brother Earl."

"I have brought you something", Horik said as he placed a small package on the floor, in front of the Jarl. He opened the package and revealed a skull.

* * *

Bjorn and Sansa had gone out to the fields to sparr a little. Both carried their shields and axes, the edges covered in leather. After they had exchanged several blows, they both took a break.

"So you think our father doesn't trust you?" Sansa asked, panting heavily from the fight.

"How would you know that?" Bjorn asked, no less exhausted.

"I heard you yesterday", Sansa admitted, "What makes you think he trusts me more than you?"

"You knew about the plans to capture Jarl Borg", Bjorn reminded her, "And I cannot help it, I sometimes feel jealous about you, for you have been around so long, have earned his trust. I am new to Kattegat, I can't compete with you."

"There is no need for you to compete with me", Sansa told him, "I told you before, my family is dead. I was lucky enough to find someone, who loves me as if I was his trueborn daughter, and whom I learned to love as if he was my real father. And I have lots of brothers that I love as well…"

"But you were included in the plans to capture Jarl Borg", Bjorn argued, "And I feel left out…"

"I wasn't included", Sansa corrected, "I thought of the plan. And I wish with all my heart, I had not the knowledge of this plan, because it was used to kill my oldest brother and my mother."

"I am sorry", Bjorn said, "You never told me."

"I told our father", Sansa replied, "It was like this: My brother was a lord in the north of my country, in rebellion against the king, who had executed our father. When he needed another ally, he had my uncle wed the daughter of another lord, who was unfriendly to him, but very powerful. The other lord, and one of my brother's followers betrayed them all, and ambushed them during the wedding feast. My sister-in-law was stabbed to death, my brother killed with arrows. My mother's throat was cut after she had seen my brother die in front of her eyes."

Sansa's voice trembled as she recounted the events with tears in her eyes. Finally she wiped the tears from her face.

"I was not there at the time, I was taken hostage by another clan", she recalled, "And if there is anything good about it, I found a new family."

"I'm sorry", Bjorn said softly, "I remembered that your family has been killed, but you never told me about those events." He snug an arm around her and smiled, "I am glad, that you are my sister now, Sansa, you are good for this family."

* * *

Aslaug and Siggy were in the great hall, weaving. Aslaug, heavily pregnant again, gasped in pain when she moved.

"What is wrong?" Siggy asked in concern.

"I don't know", Aslaug replied, I have never before had such a pregnancy so much pain – I am fearful of the prophecy."

"What prophecy?" Siggy wanted to know.

"When Ragnar returned to the farm, he wanted to have sex", Aslaug told her friend, "I told him that if he forced himself on me in the first three days, I would bear him a monster."

"Do you think you are carrying a monster?" Siggy doubted.

"I don't know. I spoke the words, but the gods chose them", Aslaug told her.

* * *

A few days later, there was another feast at the great hall. Everyone had come, and was drinking and eating. Ragnar watched from behind the curtain. Sansa stepped close to him.

"Father, what are you doing?" She asked.

"I am watching", Ragnar answered, "Come here behind the curtain."

Sansa slipped through the curtain, hidden from the views of everyone.

"You can see everyone, without them knowing", Ragnar instructed her, "One must always fear betrayal. Be careful who to trust, and who to mistrust."

Sansa watched as Rollo fought another man with sticks, both of them blindfolded. Rollo won. She saw how Aslaug handed the pregnant Torvi a cup of Ale. Torvi had not been imprisoned, but had stayed a permanent guest ever since her husband had been captured. Siggy kissed Rollo and Bjorn tried without success to talk to Thorunn.

Bjorn did not understand her reaction. He had asked Thorunn nicely to talk to him, had asked her about her hopes and dreams. Yet, she had left him standing. He turned around when he heard a voice behind him.

"You are in love", Floki stated, "But maybe, there are other needs that can be satisfied first."

"Rollo says that she is just a slave", Bjorn sighed, "And that I can have her any time I want."

"Your uncle is heavy handed, when he speak of the heart", Floki told him, "But he feels it just as deep as you. But a warrior doesn't show his heart until the axe reveals it."

Sansa and Ragnar watched them talk for a while, then Helga and Siggy crossed their view. They were chatting idly, before they separated. Siggy walked over to where Horik was sitting and handed him a cup. She talked a few words with the king, then left him behind, Horik staring at Floki with great interest.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

In Wessex, the royal court of King Egbert had hosted King Aelle of Northumbria and his family. Now the two kings were sitting on the table supping together.

"Ragnar Lothbork is no longer alone in attacking our shores", Egbert began.

"To me he is still a great disturbance", Aelle agreed.

"He is likely to return here", Egbert told him, "We must be prepared. If his army lands in Northumbria, I will come at once to your aid, and trust that you will do the same for me."

"I agree", Aelle nodded, "We must stop him. But that might be only the beginning of your true ambitions."

Egbert stood up. "All of you, leave", he ordered the guards and servants.

"It is said, that the crown of Wessex was never enough for you", Aelle recalled, "And that you desired to be _Bretwalda_ , King of all Britain. And that even now you have plans to attack Mercia."

"Mercia is a neighbor to both of us", Egbert sighed, "You know as well as I what is going on there: After the death of King Offa, the kingdom has fallen into turmoil, with several members of the royal family competing for the throne."

"Offa's son and heir has been murdered by his own sister", Egbert remembered, "It suits neither one of us, to have such an unstable neighbor. But if we joined forces, we should surely overcome them as well, and then divide Mercia between us, as we saw fit. What do you say?"

"I say, after we've dealt with Mercia, what stops you from turning on your smaller ally?" Aelle asked.

"At the moment, very little", Egbert admitted, "So I propose the formal marriage of my son and heir, Aethelwulf, to your beautiful daughter Judith."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Floki was digging carefully, removing the rocks gently. Finally he revealed an old skull.

"Hey, papa", he said.

He carefully removed further stones until he was able to take an old sword from the rotten fingers.

* * *

The next day, Helga was sitting on the raft, approaching the beach, where the ceremony would be hold. She was wearing a white dress and had flowers braided into her hair. Floki walked up on the beach and upon seeing Helga, he handed his sword to Thorstein. He waded out into the water, snatched Helga from the raft and carried her to the beach.

They were standing on the beach, facing each other. Floki was holding his rusty sword.

"Helga, you must hold this sword and trust", the priestess said, "The sword transfers the father's protection over the woman to her new husband. And now you must present this new sword to the groom."

Helga was handed another sword and she held it in front of Floki. They exchanged the swords, watching each other. Rings were placed on the points of the blades, before the priestess addressed them again.

"Floki, do you swear to the gods, that you want to marry this woman?" she asked.

"I swear", Floki answered, "With the gods as my witnesses."

"Helga, do you swear to the gods, that you want to marry this man?" she asked the bride.

"I do swear", Helga answered firmly.

Then they placed the rings on their fingers and the audience cheered loudly. Everyone was happy for them, they had finally taken this step.

* * *

The rider approached Kattegat. He descended from his horse and walked over to the waiting warriors.

"You are Sansa, daughter of Ragnar?" he asked. Sansa nodded.

"I have come to talk with your father about important business", he declared.

"And what business would that be?" Sansa wanted to know.

"Believe me, he will want to hear it", the rider said.

* * *

Ragnar and Thorstein were in the empty great hall. They were playing a game, where they both had cups of Ale standing on their head and had to shoot them down.

It was Thorstein's turn. He had a dagger in his hand, ready to throw. Ragnar had his shield in front of his chest. Thorstein threw and the dagger stuck in his shield. The cup from Ragnar's head fell from the movement, and Ragnar looked at his shield with displeasure.

"You son of a whore", he muttered, "One more!"

Ragnar laid his shield to the side, and grabbed bow and arrow. Thorstein had raised his shield and placed a cup on his own head.

"Thorstein, is your shield up?" Ragnar asked, "It is so dark in here."

"I'm here", the drunk Thorstein waved. Ragnar aimed and loosened the arrow, hitting the cup on Thorstein's head.

The door opened and Sansa and the messenger entered.

"This is my father", Sansa sighed, rolling her eyes at his behavior.

"And you are?" Ragnar asked the messenger.

"You sent out word that you needed a new ally", the messenger began, "The word reached us, and we are happy, that we can provide such an ally. An Earl, with enough men and ships to make your raid a great success. His name is Earl Ingstad."

"Earl Ingstad?" Ragnar asked, "Never heard of him."

He loosened another arrow, aimed at the messenger's chest and Thorstein was just able to catch it with his shield.

"Why is he not with you?" Ragnar wanted to know.

"He did not want to waste the journey", the messenger told him, "He wanted to be certain that you still needed an ally. He is prepared to attend."

"Yes", Ragnar said, "Yes, yes, yes", before he chased the messenger out of the door.

* * *

Rollo was lying in bed next to Siggy. They were both enjoying the warmth of each other's body.

"We have found a new ally" he told her, "Earl Ingstad. Whoever he is."

"When will he arrive?" Siggy asked.

"In a few days", Rollo informed her.

"Then Jarl Borg will be executed?" she asked him.

"It cannot come quickly enough for my liking", Rollo said. He went on kissing her neck and Siggy began to moan in pleasure. As his kisses moved further down her back, his hand closed around her throat. In panic, she opened her eyes.

"Why did you do it?" Rollo asked, "Why did you sleep with Horik?"

Siggy choked and tried to breathe, but she could only whisper, "Please!"

Rollo held her for another moment, then released her. Siggy sat up panting.

"I did it for you", she told him.

"What can he give me what my brother can't?" Rollo wanted to know.

"Now they are allies, but they may not remain so", Siggy explained, "If they fall out, I want you to be able to choose between them."

Rollo looked at her, angry.

"Horik is a king", she reminded him, "Don't forget that."

* * *

Horik entered the prison and sat down in front of Jarl Borg.

"I am going to follow your advice", the King said, "I will set you free. There are those who only claim to be loyal to Ragnar."

"And then?" Borg asked.

"Then we will kill Ragnar Lothbrok", Horik said blankly, "And every one of his brood."

* * *

Ragnar was riding out into the woods. Thorstein had informed him of Earl Ingstad's arrival, but the new ally refused to enter the town. He emerged on a small clearing, where a tall man was standing in the middle.

"Earl Ingstad?" Ragnar asked. In this moment, another rider emerged from the woods. Ragnar smiled as he recognized the Earl. He rode closer.

"Earl Ingstad, you bear a striking resemblance with my ex-wife", he smiled.

"If I had given you my true name, you might have turned me away", Lagertha replied, "How is Bjorn?"

"He is fine, eager to go to England", Ragnar told her, "Are you really an Earl?"

"Yes, we are equals", Lagertha affirmed, "This must be difficult for you…"

"Not difficult at all", Ragnar told her, "How many ships?"

"Four ships", Lagertha replied, "Over a hundred warriors. Will you accept me as an ally?"

"That depends", Ragnar answered mischievously.

"On what?" Lagertha asked.

"I have been betrayed by Earls before, so if you are really Earl Ingstad, then it's a no", Ragnar told her, "But if you are still the Lagertha I remember, then it is a yes."

Lagertha smiled and rode towards the town next to Ragnar.

"Earl _Ingstad_ ", he giggled.

* * *

Sansa was waiting with Aslaug and Bjorn at the entrance of the great hall for the arrival of their new ally. Neither of them had ever heard of Earl Ingstad before, but they were going to see him soon.

"Is that Lagertha riding next to him?" Sansa inquired as she watched them approach.

"I think, you're right", Bjorn agreed.

Lagertha and the warriors from Hedeby arrived on the market place and dismounted from their horses. Sansa's heart skipped a beat, when she saw Gunnar amidst them.

"It's my pleasure to introduce you to my family, _Earl Ingstad_ ", Ragnar laughed as the others looked at Lagertha in disbelief.

The newly arrived were quickly ushered inside, where a light meal and drinks awaited them, before the welcoming feast in the evening.

* * *

The feast was enormous, befitting the arrival of another Earl. Sansa was standing a little outside, her cup of ale in her hand, when Gunnar walked casually up to her.

"I heard Kattegat has the most beautiful shield maidens", he began, "Wouldn't you agree?"

"I might", Sansa said, smiling as she took a sip from her cup.

"I've been hoping we could continue the tour you gave me during my last visit", Gunnar hinted, "There is still so much to be seen."

"If you want, we can go right now", Sansa offered, a little weak in her knees, "I can try and sneak out…"

Gunnar nodded and together they left the great hall for a little walk. Soon they had reached the small stretch of beach adjoining the pier. They sat down in the sand and Gunnar put an arm around her shoulders.

"I've missed you", Sansa stammered.

"Really?" Gunnar sounded both pleased and surprised, "We were seeing each other for a mere week."

"Still, I missed having you around", Sansa smiled, "Although getting reacquainted with my brother was fun as well."

"Then it's a good thing I'm back", Gunnar smiled as he bowed down and kissed her. Sansa closed her eyes and her lips parted, allowing his tongue to enter. Gunnar's hands travelled down her back and finally rested on her lower back. Sansa felt her fingers tuck at Gunnar's tunic, just before they broke the kiss.

"Are you sure?" Gunnar asked as their faces were close to each other. Sansa didn't reply, instead she began to pull Gunnar's tunic over his head and raining kisses all over his face.

* * *

Lagertha and her warriors had arrived and settled in in Kattegat. Now they were training with Kattegat's own warriors and shield maidens.

Sansa had been picked by Lagertha. They were both holding their shields, Lagertha was using her sword and Sansa was still carrying a light axe.

"If you want to fight the English, you will need to practice", Lagertha had told her, "And since you are family to me, I will take care of that."

Sansa could not help herself, but be afraid. She had fought against Jarl Borg's troops before, but Lagertha was a famous shield maiden, and she was barely trained. It did not help that she could not stop thinking about her sister Arya, how much she would have liked the new Sansa. Arya would have praised Lagertha, Sansa was sure.

Sansa's thoughts were interrupted by Lagertha's sword, hitting her on the stomach. She stumbled backwards and fell on her butt.

"Are you all right?" Lagertha asked, "What happened? Why did you not defend yourself?"

"I'm sorry", Sansa grinned sheepishly, "I kept thinking about my sister, the one I had before I came here."

"What about her?" Lagertha asked with a smile.

"She would have loved you", Sansa smiled, "and she would have loved to see me learn to fight. She always claimed that I was no fun."

"I am sure, I would have liked her, too", Lagertha smiled before her voice became hard, "But you must not think about her when you are fighting. Not at all – otherwise you will die!"

Sansa nodded and stood up. She held her axe and shield tightly and waited for Lagertha's next attack. Lagertha swung her sword and Sansa blocked it with her shield. She struck with her axe after Lagertha's head and the shield maiden was barely able to sidestep. Sansa whirled her body around, lunging upwards on the inside of Lagertha's shield and stopped her axe, right before Lagertha's throat.

Lagertha smiled at her stepdaughter.

"You are getting better", she complimented her, "But there is still a lot you have to learn. Let's go again!"

* * *

Ragnar and Aslaug watched as Sansa was hit again by Lagertha.

"What do you think of it?" Aslaug wanted to know.

"I think the gods are playing a joke on me", Ragnar told her.

"It is not a joke", Aslaug replied.

"I know", Ragnar sighed, "What do you think of it?"

"I like her", Aslaug smiled.

"My former wife?!" Ragnar said in surprise.

"I would rather be her", Aslaug teased, "She's formidable."

"The gods are really having a good time with me today", Ragnar sighed as he leant back against the wall.

* * *

Night had fallen over Kattegat. Jarl Borg was lying in his prison, when he heard someone enter.

"Horik, is that you?" he asked, but received no answer. The man was still wearing his hood, and unlocked Borg's chains. Jarl Borg was almost out of the door, when he remembered his wife's skull. He turned around and quickly grabbed it, before he walked through the door.

Jarl Borg was surprised to see the street lighted by torches as he left the house. He saw Horik waiting for him, looking straight in his eyes. He was about to thank the King for his release, when he saw Ragnar stand on a wooden platform. He was wearing a white tunic, just like a priest. He understood. This was the night of his death.

Sansa was standing at the foot of the platform, between Lagertha and Torvi. She and the others watched as Jarl Borg slowly climbed up the stairs until he faced Ragnar. He carefully placed his wife's skull on the wooden executioner's block and lowered the blanket from his shoulders. He threw it to Torvi and knelt before Ragnar, his arms stretched wide open, placing them at the tops of the poles, where they would rest.

Ragnar took a skinning knife and cut twice along Borg's spine. The Jarl gave no sound and only lightly grimaced, as the sharp blade separated his flesh and skin. Next, Ragnar took a small axe and chopped at Jarl Borg's ribs, one by one. Blood spurted high as the axe head sheered through the bone and soon Ragnar's white tunic was dripping with his enemy's blood.

Sansa watched, as Jarl Borg threw his head back in agony at each impact. Next to her, Torvi fainted, still heavily pregnant. Sansa barely noticed it, she was captivated by the events on the platform. Although he was grimacing in agony, Jarl Borg had not cried out in pain, as Sansa had been told, this was his only hope of gaining Valhalla.

Thorstein watched the events in shock and several of the others had turned away or fainted. Bjorn and Erlendur watched in fascination. They somehow reminded Sansa of Joffrey, in his vicious cruelty. She immediately regretted the thought, she did not want to think about Joffrey, especially in comparison to her brother.

Jarl Borg's hands had slipped off the poles and he was lying flat on the platform. Ragnar stepped around and heaved him up. He looked him close in the eyes, as he placed the Jarl's hands back on the poles. Then he stepped back behind him and put his hands into the wounds on Jarl Borg's back. He grabbed the lungs and tore them out of the chest and folded them over Borg's shoulders, as if they were the folded wings of an eagle.

Siggy and Helga turned their heads away in shock, and Aslaug opened her mouth and bend over, before she spat out a little of the acidic taste she had in her mouth. Even Floki watched in disgust, as the other man suffered.

Finally, Jarl Borg locked eyes with Sansa and she felt her knees weaken. As he closed his eyes, the world began to spin around her and it became black in front of her eyes. The last thing, Sansa heard was a sentence, drifting up from her memory: _"I showed mercy – I gave him a clean death."_

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 _A/N: In retrospect, what will Sansa think of her own actions? And everyone else's?  
_

 _And how will the beginning romance affect the raid to England?_

 _Don't forget to review!_


	19. Boneless

_A/N: Here we go, Vikings Season 2!_

 ** _Thank you for your reviews! As well as all those who follow or favorited this story!  
_**

 _The Vikings return to Wessex...  
_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of Thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 **Chapter 19 Boneless**

It had been a few hours, since Jarl Borg had been executed. His dead body was still lying on the platform.

Sansa had been brought inside the house, where she had regained consciousness. She had not spoken since her awakening, instead she had wandered outside and kept staring at the body. She kept thinking about him and did not like her thoughts.

Ragnar silently stepped behind her, yet she noticed his presence and turned her head to face him.

"Sansa, what is it?" Ragnar asked, concerned, "You haven't eaten or drank all day."

"A clean death", Sansa murmured.

"What did you say?" Ragnar asked.

"That's what he said", Sansa recalled, "A _clean_ death."

"Who? Jarl Borg?" Ragnar asked in confusion.

"No, Joffrey", Sansa told him. At the blank look in Ragnar's face, she began to explain.

"I told you once that my father had been executed for treason", Sansa spoke slowly, "But that is not the whole story. After his imprisonment, I asked the king for mercy, and he granted it."

"But I thought your father had been executed?" Ragnar recalled, sitting down next to his adopted daughter.

"He was", Sansa stammered, "When I asked King Joffrey about his promise to show mercy, he replied that a clean death was merciful enough. And then he forced me to look on my father's head on a spike."

"I am sorry, Sansa" Ragnar sighed, "You never told that part before."

"How could you hate someone so much, that you can torture him to death, as you did last night?" Sansa sobbed, "This was cruel."

"Are you sorry that I killed him, or do you regret that I tortured him to death?" Ragnar wanted to know. Sansa thought for a moment, before she voiced her thoughts.

"I don't think I'm sorry that he's dead", she replied, "He was our enemy, after all. But I can't shake the feeling that he didn't need to die this cruelly. And you had Torvi watch the whole time…"

"Torvi chose to watch", Ragnar informed her, "And what would you have me do with him? Just cut off his head?"

Sansa stared at him. "It would have been less pain", she answered.

"It would have been easier", Ragnar admitted, "But there are some things about this killing that make it special. In these minutes up here, there was no one else than the two of us in the world. He fought bravely to die well, and he succeeded. He impressed the gods by his suffering and because he stayed silent, and did not cry out in pain, I will see him one day in Valhalla. He won my respect and those of the gods by this ordeal."

"So you say, he would have chosen this death?" Sansa asked in disbelief.

"No, no one would choose such a death for himself", Ragnar replied, "But he took his death as well as any man can. He impressed the gods for sure – I can only hope, that if I ever find myself in the same situation, I will be able to behave as he did. Can you understand that somehow?"

Sansa nodded quietly.

"The world is a cruel place", Ragnar reminded her, "I don't have to tell you that, you have known it long before we ever met. In our lands, it is considered a gift, when you are able to withstand all the cruelty and impress the gods."

Sansa nodded once again, then tried a smile.

"I believe I understand it now", she smiled, "Thank you, father."

She kissed Ragnar on his forehead and wanted to go, when Ragnar grabbed her wrist. He dipped one of his fingers into the drying blood of Jarl Borg and held it in front of Sansa's face. Carefully, he smeared it over her nose, her forehead up into her hair.

"Blood of your sacrificed enemies will protect you", he whispered, "It pleases the gods."

* * *

Two weeks later, Aslaug was heavily in labor. Ragnar watched anxiously from the corner of the room, as Siggy and Sansa and several others tried to deliver the baby. Aslaug had been in labor for half a day, when she closed her eyes, exhausted. Sansa placed a wet washcloth on her mother's forehead and hoped she would regain consciousness.

"Princess Aslaug, listen to me", Siggy whispered in her ear, "You are in an open field. On the one said, there are wastelands filled with ashes and bones and hellish things- on the other side is your husband, your children, your house, the fjord and the sun is striking on the snow. If you want to reach them, you have to push this baby out of your body with all your force!"

Aslaug's eyes flared open and she cried out in pain, as another contraction tore through her body. Then a baby's cries mixed with the sounds in the room.

"It's alive", Sansa told them, as she caught her new sibling's head. Aslaug pushed again and the rest of the baby's body fell into her hands.

"It's a boy", Sansa stated. She could feel the tension in the room wear off, yet she had been the only one to see her brother clearly. While she wrapped him in a blanket, she kept thinking about the strangely bent legs she had just seen.

* * *

Lagertha and Horik were standing on the beach, accompanied by their sons.

"We will shortly sail to Wessex", the King said, "Obviously, we must leave soon."

"I have to return to my territories", Lagertha replied, "I have to prepare my ships. It will take some time."

"How much time?" Horik asked.

"Just enough time, King Horik", Bjorn told him, "No more, no less."

They were interrupted by Thorunn who joined them on the beach.

"Your father has a new son!" she told Bjorn.

"I must congratulate your father", Horik smiled, "It is never a bad day, to have a son."

"I too am happy for Earl Ragnar", Erlendur added.

They both left to congratulate Ragnar, and Lagertha, Bjorn and Thorunn were left behind. Thorunn was shortly embraced by Bjorn, while Lagertha watched.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"Thorunn", the slave girl answered.

"I meant, who are you, to my son?" Lagertha repeated.

"She's a servant. A slave", Bjorn told her, "But I'm in love with her."

* * *

Ragnar was sitting next to Aslaug, holding her in his arms, while his newborn son slept in his mother's arms. Ragnar carefully unwrapped the blanket and looked at his son's twisted legs.

"After all, your prophecy was right", he sighed.

* * *

In her room, Sansa was lifting her head from Gunnar's bare chest. Propping herself up on an elbow, she smiled down at him, as they were lying in her bed.

"I wish you wouldn't need to go", Sansa sighed.

"Only for a little while", Gunnar assured her, "We just need to get the boats ready in Hedeby, then I'll be back with you."

Sansa kissed him softly.

"I love you", she whispered.

* * *

The next day, Lagertha was boarding her ship to return to her territories.

"Don't be too long", Horik urged her, "The three of us are equal, but one cannot be more equal than the others"

"You mean Ragnar", Lagertha smiled.

"You and I are as least as equal" Horik told her, "And Ragnar has to understand it."

"I agree", Lagertha said.

Siggy stepped out to the boat and handed Lagertha another blanket.

"To keep you warm", she said.

"What is wrong with Ragnar's new son?" Lagertha asked. She had heard the rumors like everyone else in the town, but no one had known anything specific.

"Nothing", Siggy shrugged, although Lagertha could tell, that she was lying.

"How loyal you are, Siggy", she told her old friend.

* * *

Bjorn, Rollo and several others were sparring on the beach. They had discarded their tunics and were fighting with their chests bare.

"Don't die stupidly", Rollo told his nephew.

"I'm not going to die", Bjorn raged.

"Yes, you are", Rollo insisted, "If I choose."

Bjorn swung his axe and Rollo blocked effortlessly with his shield. He slashed with his sword and Bjorn dived away under the blow. Bjorn's next swing only cut through the air and Rollo's sword hit Bjorn on the belly. He fell into the shallow water, losing his shield. Rollo was towering over Bjorn, and he grabbed his axe. But before he could swing it at his uncle's feet, Rollo's sword hit his biceps. Bjorn fell back into the water and Rollo stabbed his sword into the sand, missing Bjorn's throat only by a few inches.

Rollo smiled and extended a hand. As Bjorn stood up, he said, "Always remember to finish off your opponent. We're good at playing dead, maybe the Saxons are the same. But no man ever ran away with his entrails hanging out or his head cut off – that's just a simple fact of life."

* * *

Ragnar and Aslaug were sitting in their room, while their newborn son was sleeping in his crib. Ragnar had tears in his eyes.

"He will die anyway", he said, "What is the point of pretending?"

Aslaug looked up.

"I know", she sobbed, "But I don't care."

"I we were wolves or even pigs, this poor thing would be discarded", Ragnar tried to convince her.

"We aren't wolves or pigs", Aslaug reminded him.

* * *

Night had fallen over Kattegat. Or more exactly, night was almost over, the morning would dawn shortly. Ragnar snuck into the bedroom and watched his newborn son, sleep in his crib. Carefully, he took him and walked out of the great hall.

Ragnar walked silently out of Kattegat and into the woods. The baby in his hands awoke and was holding to his stroking fingers.

"I am sorry, my son", Ragnar said as he put him down, "But there is no other way."

He carefully placed him on the gravel next to the creek. He took an axe from his belt and held it high, preparing himself to chop it into his son's head. After a minute, he realized, he could not do it.

Ragnar quickly stood up and walked away, leaving the baby in the woods.

* * *

Sansa and her father were eating at the table, while Aslaug was feeding the baby. She had followed Ragnar into the wood this morning and brought the boy back with her.

"We should put him out to die", Ragnar sighed.

Sansa understood him completely, yet she disagreed.

"Walk with me for a while, father", she said, "I need to talk to you."

They left the great hall and walked down to the beach. They were completely alone and Sansa finally sat down in the wet sand.

"You want to kill your son", Sansa stated.

"He will die soon enough", Ragnar told her, "I want to end his misery."

"But he might live", Sansa objected, "Have I ever told you about the man I was married to?"

"Not in detail", Ragnar remembered.

"His name was Tyrion, son of Tywin, of the clan Lannister", Sansa began, "He had a lot of names to be called behind his back – the half-man, the imp, the dwarf. His head was too big for his body and his legs were so short that he did not reach my shoulders."

"Then he probably should have been put out as he had been born", Ragnar said, "Here you are nothing if you cannot fight."

"He told me, his father was about to do it", Sansa admitted, "But he did fight, he was a celebrated hero. He had a big scar over his face, where a sword had once penetrated his helmet. He was leading the defense of the city, when his brother-in-law attacked. Another time, he saved my mother's life, when he had nothing but a shield and used it to kill several attackers."

"That sounds like a story, too good to be true" Ragnar smiled, "So you think, the weakest of your brothers will be the most fearsome fighter?"

"I never said that", Sansa argued, "I don't know, but it is possible. And Tyrion's story is true, I saw the scar myself, and how he had gotten it was the most exciting news that had reached the royal court in a long time. But his most dangerous weapon was not the axe he used, it was his mind."

"His mind?" Ragnar asked in surprise.

"Yes, he was the most cunning of his whole clan", Sansa told him, "His sister, the queen was spinning her intrigues day and night, his nephew, the king was a stupid, cruel monster. His brother Jaime was a great fighter, but not so much of a thinker, and Tywin, his father was the old Lord, wise from all those years. Yet Tyrion was just as clever as anyone else in his family, or maybe even more."

"So you think your mother is doing the right thing, by keeping him alive?" Ragnar finally asked.

* * *

In Hedeby's great hall, Lagertha was enjoying her hot bath, when she felt a look on her back. She smiled to herself.

"Einar, why don't you come in?" she asked, "Do you want to talk to me?"

"Yes", Einar said.

"Then wait a moment", Lagertha replied as she stood up from her bathtub. She turned around, so Einar could see her in her whole uncovered beauty.

"What did you want to say?" she asked.

"I thought we had an agreement", Einar told her.

"I don't remember any agreement", Lagertha said, as she wrapped herself in a towel.

"I would help you to become Earl", Einar recalled, "And then we might be married."

"I never made any arrangement, not with you", Lagertha replied, "Nor with anyone else."

Einar stepped closer and pushed her against the wall. He drew a knife from his belt.

"If you don't let me enjoy you, I shall open your face!" he threatened.

Lagertha looked calmly in his eyes, as she pushed the blade away.

"You couldn't kill me", she told him, "What would your family do then? If they had _any_ respect for you, they would have made _you_ Earl. But the only one, you could kill was a dying man. So brave are you…"

* * *

Ragnar was watching Aslaug nurse the baby.

"He needs a name", he finally said, "Now that the gods have saved him."

"His name is Ivar", Aslaug told him.

"Ivar the Boneless", Ragnar smiled.

* * *

The fjord was filled with ships, since Lagertha had returned. Banners flew from the masts, wildly mixed in colors. There was King Horik's black and white stripes, Ragnar's red banner with the double black chevron on it and Lagertha's banner, showing a stylized Yggdrasil, the ash tree that held up the sky. Warriors and shield maidens were walking through the streets, saying their goodbyes to their loved ones, loading the ships and rechecking their gear. Some were doing their washing rite, others were already on board. Lagertha looked up, as she saw Bjorn run along the pier.

"Thorunn!" he called.

As he caught up with her, he was out of breath.

"Many do not wish me to talk to you", he told her, "But what does it matter? I will probably die in battle."

He kissed her softly, then she looked deep in his eyes.

"I love you", Thorunn said. As their lips met, they stopped caring about the public place, their kiss grew more passionate with every second, before the need for air, finally drove them apart.

* * *

Sansa and Ragnar had said their goodbyes to the rest of the family in the privacy of the great hall, as Ragnar had begun to do it a long time ago. Sansa was nervous, she would be for the first time aboard a ship, ever since she had been captured all those years before. Now she would return to England as one of those northern devils.

* * *

Floki and Helga were lying on the grass in the woods, just outside the town. Floki was stroking Helga's growing belly, trying to feel his child's kick.

"I chose to travel with King Horik this time", Floki told his wife, "There is something about him. He understands the gods better than Ragnar."

"That is not possible", Helga reminded him.

"I mean the real gods", Floki sighed, "The gods that haunt me."

* * *

Siggy stepped out on the pier where the longship had been secured.

"Rollo, I will be here when you return", she told him, "If it is what you want."

Rollo thought about it for a few moments. He had almost forgiven her for sleeping with King Horik, so he reached out his hand to her and she held it for a moment.

* * *

Horns were sounding all over the port, when the last ones arrived to embark. Ragnar and Sansa were carrying their packs to their boat. Bjorn was with them, Rollo was already waiting on the ship.

Sansa took all the ambiance in. It was not the first time she had watched the ships depart, but for the first time, she would leave Kattegat. She looked over to Lagertha who was standing on the bow of her own ship, looking proudly over the assembled warriors. Gunnar was manning one of the oars on Lagertha's ship, Sansa could see. Sansa took a deep breath, then stepped off the pier onto the ship. Her father gave her a quick encouraging smile.

The wind was tugging on Sansa's hair. As well as it was tugging on her fur-trimmed cloak. It was stronger than she ever had felt it before. She had braided her hair somehow similar to Lagertha's, with braids running along her temples and a long braid in the back of her head. The experienced shield maiden had explained to her, that it helped keeping her hair out of her face during battle.

* * *

Ever since they had reached the open sea, she felt a little weird.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Ragnar asked her smiling.

Sansa gave him a pained look.

"Are you getting seasick?" Ragnar smiled, "Try to get it into the water."

Sansa looked at him in confusion for a moment, then she understood. As soon as her mind had made the connection, she felt the nausea in her stomach worse than before. She quickly stood up from her place and walked to the bow, on the small platform, where the dragonhead rose above the water.

She opened her mouth and her breakfast disappeared beneath the waves. Bjorn stepped beside her and patted her back, while Ragnar was smiling teasingly from behind.

"I didn't take you for a landlubber", Thorstein laughed.

Sansa wiped the rest of her puke from her lips and gave them a wry smile.

"I am glad you found me so entertaining", she smiled, "But I hope you will not press me for a repeat performance."

Gratefully, she took the cup of water, Ragnar had given her. She took a few sips to wash the taste out of her mouth.

"Don't worry", Ragnar told his daughter, "It happens to almost everyone, sometimes at least. If it comes back, just take deep breaths and look at the horizon, then you will feel better."

* * *

They had gone ashore in Wessex and had set up a camp. Tents were standing closely packed, behind makeshift defenses. Sansa was lying in the grass, a couple of feet away from Ragnar.

"Is your new tattoo still itching?" Ragnar asked as he munched on a chicken's leg.

"A little", Sansa admitted, "Maybe I should not have gotten the whole of my back covered by the tattoo."

"In any case, it is beautiful", he told her, "A raven with his wings over your shoulders and onto your arms, the head up at the back of your neck. I like it."

"Thank you, father", Sansa smiled. She sat up when King Horik came over.

"Where is Thorstein going?" the King asked.

"I sent him to inform King Egbert of our return", Ragnar answered.

"Why would you do that?" Horik asked.

"So he knows that we are here to talk?" Ragnar replied.

"And you did that without consulting with me first?" Horik asked angrily.

"I thought, you would both agree", Ragnar answered as Lagertha stepped to the group. Horik stared at Ragnar for a while.

"Fine", Ragnar gave in, "I will…"

He turned his head to fin Thorstein long gone.

"Unfortunately", Ragnar smiled, "It is too late to recall Thorstein."

"You should have discussed it with us first, Ragnar", Lagertha raged, "King Horik is right."

"I will try to remember that the next time, Earl _Ingstad_ ", Ragnar said.

"There is not going to be a next time, Ragnar", Horik informed him, "Unless you agree to never ever do anything again, without consulting with me first. You and I are not equals."

King Horik swallowed his anger, then asked, "What do you propose now?"

"Wait", Ragnar suggested.

"For what?" Horik asked.

"The unexpected?" Sansa hinted smiling.

"I'll tell you what to expect", Horik raged, "King Egbert will send some envoy to trick us. Or an army to annihilate us."

The King stood up angrily and left the tent, followed by his son. Lagertha looked angrily at Ragnar for a few more seconds, then she left the tent as well.

"That went well", Ragnar and Sansa said at the same time.

* * *

At night, Sansa and Gunnar were lying together in their tent, gently making love underneath the furs. Finally, Gunnar rolled over and lay there, next to Sansa, his arm around her shoulders.

"What do you think the Saxons will do?" he asked.

"I have no idea", Sansa said honestly, "But we shall find out soon enough."

* * *

The Saxon emissaries approached the Viking camp. Prince Aethelwulf, son of King Egbert dismounted from his horse and drew his swords, before placing it on the ground. He held his hands outstretched as a sign, that he was unarmed and walked slowly closer.

The Viking leaders, King Horik, Ragnar, Lagertha, Rollo, Bjorn and Sansa were waiting for him just outside the barricades. They were all armed, Rollo had his sword drawn and walked past the prince.

"Ragnar Lothbrok", Aethelwulf addressed him, "My father sends his greetings. He hopes you are prepared to talk to him."

"I am prepared", Ragnar told him, "But we would have to exchange hostages."

"Of course", Aethelwulf agreed. He opened a pouch on his belt and dug up a northern arm ring.

"My father also sends you this", he explained, "As a token of his good faith."

Ragnar took the arm ring and examined it closely.

"This is Athelstan's", he said, "I gave it to him."

"Then he is alive", Lagertha smiled.

"Athelstan is alive and well", Athelwulf informed them, "He is waiting for you at my father's villa. You have his promise of safe passage, as well as my father's."

"Then we will all go", Ragnar told him. Athelwulf nodded his agreement and turned around, walking back to his horse.

As Athelwulf and his guards were riding through the woods, on their way, back to King Egbert's villa, they suddenly found themselves surrounded by northmen. They were pulled out of their saddles and the northmen cut down the warriors one by one. Only Athelwulf was spared, although several of the Vikings had grabbed him, before they released him again. As everyone except for the prince were dead, the northmen retreated and vanished back into the forest, as sudden as they had appeared.

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 _A/N: Next, we see the big battle... the second time Sansa stands on a battlefield.  
_

 _Before anyone asks, Sansa is **not** pregnant. She just hasn't spent a day on open sea for almost a decade since she was captured._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	20. The Choice

_A/N: Here we go, Vikings Season 2!_

 ** _Thank you for your reviews! As well as all those who follow or favorited this story!  
_**

 _The Vikings return to Wessex...  
_

 _ **Warning:** This is a battle themed chapter... by now you know what it means: **Graphical violence ahead!**_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of Thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

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 **Chapter 20 The Choice**

It was night over the Viking camp in Wessex. The leaders were sitting around a campfire, arguing loudly.

"King Horik, your behavior has made it very difficult to talk peace or to negotiate with King Egbert", Ragnar told the King, speaking of the attack on the emissaries.

"I don't want to negotiate with King Egbert", Horik refused, "I only want to kill him. And then I shall talk to him."

"If we defeat Egbert in battle, he might offer us more", Lagertha added, "Not only in gold, but also in land."

"This was a gift in good faith", Ragnar said, holding up Athelstan's arm ring.

"Why should there be good faith between us and Christians?" Horik disagreed, "What do you think, Floki?"

The boatbuilder looked up.

"They worship a false god", he said, "They're fleas and vermin."

"Then I will go myself and talk to them, King Horik", Ragnar sighed.

"You will not divide our forces, Earl Ragnar", Horik informed him, "You seem to forget, I am King!"

The king stood up angrily and declared, "Tomorrow, we will meet King Egbert, armed and ready, we will meet him, as Odin thought us!"

* * *

Later that night, almost everyone was asleep. Bjorn threw himself around on his blanket, until he finally stood up. He could see his father sitting by the fire, wrapped tightly in a blanket.

"I can't sleep", he said, "I'm thinking about what it is like to die."

"Only those who died would know", Ragnar told him.

"The seer might know", Bjorn said.

"He's not truly dead", Ragnar told him, "That is his curse. In any case he told me something about you: You will marry the daughter of a King, or else, sail around the sea that has no tides…"

"So I shall not die tomorrow", Bjorn stated hopefully. He sat there for another minute, then walked back to his sleeping place.

After Bjorn had walked off, Lagertha approached the fire. She had been listening to their conversation.

"I pray to the gods, that the seer was right, and that our son shall not die tomorrow", she said, "And for what it's worth, I hope you live through the day as well, Ragnar."

Ragnar looked up for a moment.

"Do you want to have sex?" he asked.

Lagertha smiled at him for a moment, then turned around and walked off.

"Good night, Ragnar", she said.

* * *

Sansa was moaning loudly as Gunnar cupped her breasts. She was sitting on him and riding him wildly, causing both of their bodies to be covered in sweat. When they were done, Sansa slid off him and snuggled at his side, both of them panting heavily.

"Don't worry, my love", Gunnar said, "It will be alright tomorrow."

* * *

The Viking army was walking through the English woods. When the emerged from the woods, they found themselves on the top of a grassy hill.

"This is the place", Ragnar said.

"How would you know that?" Horik asked annoyed.

"Because they are already here", Ragnar told him and pointed to the bottom of the hill. From the woods at the bottom, another army emerged and assembled into formation.

"A large force", Horik stated, "But not large enough. We will go down to them."

"I think we should wait", Ragnar cautioned them.

"I am not waiting", Horik called, "The enemy is there, we have the advantage of the hill. Forward!"

They walked downhill and kept beating their swords and axes against their shields, to intimidate their enemies. The English walked uphill, until they met just below the middle height of the sloping ground.

Ragnar's and Lagertha's warriors followed Horik's warriors, but they kept a close look to the flanks, as they walked across the ground.

"Ragnar!" Rollo called out, when he saw a rider behind the ridge on their right flank. They formed a tight shield wall, trying to repel the unexpected attack.

"Why are you stopping?" King Horik called out form the bottom of the hill, "The gods are with us! Forward!" Ragnar looked down to the King and his warriors and realized, from their position, the riders could not be seen.

A horn sounded from the left flank of the Vikings. Not a northern horn, but the metallic sound of a Saxon signal. Lagertha looked over her shoulder and saw riders approach on their left flank as well.

"Shield wall!" she ordered, and several of the warriors turned immediately around, forming another wall back to back with Ragnar's shield wall. The English at the bottom charged at the northmen, who had been running down the hill and were not placed in a shield wall.

Ragnar, Sansa, Bjorn and Rollo were defending the right flank of the army against footmen and riders. The shield wall shattered under the impact of the English soldiers.

Ragnar had lost his shield and was chopping at the Saxons with his axe, cutting them down as they came.

Bjorn caught a sword on his shield, then dug his axe into the English soldier's chest. He stepped to the side, and hacked after another one's leg, severing the lower leg from the knee.

Sansa had hacked at the English soldier and had cut with her axe through the opening in his helmet, hitting the left eye. The man tumbled back and Sansa followed up with a slash at the exposed throat. She saw another one charging at her and without hesitating, she raised her axe and threw it at her opponent. The blade dug into his shoulder, taking him of his feet. With a few steps, Sansa was above him and slammed her heavy wooden shield down on him, crashing his skull.

In the melee at the bottom of the hill, the warriors were busy as well. Erlendur was slashing with his sword, cutting down an English soldier, who had been too slow to turn around and face him.

Floki had already lost his sword and was using his hatchet and dagger, as so often before. He used both to catch an English sword which came down on him. He turned around and caused the English soldier to fall to the ground, before he was over him. Floki quickly cut the English soldier's throat with his knife, then turned to face the next one.

King Horik stepped back from the stab an English soldier had cast at his chest. He defended himself with his sword, before guarding himself with his shield and slashing his sword at his opponent's face.

Lagertha was waiting among the others in her shield wall, watching the riders charge on them.

"Brace!" she called, "Hold the wall!"

The riders crashed into the shield wall. Horses fell to the ground, Vikings were ridden down. Only Lagertha and a few others were missed, but next to them, there were big gaps in the shield wall.

Rollo swung his big, two handed axe after the leg of an English soldier. He hit his ankle, swiping him from his feet. He raised his axe and buried the heavy blade in the Saxon's back.

King Egbert sat on his horse, watching the battle unfold. As he decided it was the right time, he nodded to one of his guards. The guardsman raised the banner and waved it through the air. King Aelle on the other side of the battlefield saw the signal and let blow a horn in response.

Another group of riders charged onto the battlefield and mixed with the Vikings. They were quickly crushed to the ground, at least those who were too slow to leap aside.

Sansa looked up and saw a rider's sword come down on her face. She tried to raise her axe to defend herself, and moved to the side a little, to avoid the hit, but she was too slow. The blade glanced off her skull, and severed parts of her right ear, before it went further down and broke her collarbone. She stumbled and fell to the ground.

Ragnar was using his rather small axe with both of his hands. He cut through an English soldier's sword arm, before he spun around and hit another one in the throat.

Rollo was swinging his axe in a wide circle. He hit an English soldier in the side of his body. He cut through the armor and nearly cut him in half.

Lagertha attacked another warrior. She used her shield to push her opponent off his feet, before stabbing downward with her sword, killing him.

Rollo swung his axe at one of the riders, killing the horse. The rider went down, and before he could get back on his feet, Rollo's axe hit him in the back.

Rollo turned around and faced Prince Athelwulf, charging towards him on his horse. Rollo could not move out of the way, and was crushed to the ground by Athelwulf's horse. He was run over by several other horses before he was lying lifeless in the mud.

Ragnar watched as Rollo was run over. He shoved the nearest Saxon to the ground with his shoulder, and hacked away at another. He took a moment, to take in the situation on the battlefield.

"Run!" he ordered.

Lagertha had heard him and quickly turned around, struggling uphill, away from the battle. A Saxon soldier tried to follow her, but a swift strike to the chest let him fall to the ground, dying.

Sansa had gotten back on her feet. Her vision was blurry and she was unsteady on her feet. Since she had been hit on her right shoulder, she could no longer wield her axe. She had changed it to her left hand and had discarded her shield. She struggled through the mud and tried to keep up with Lagertha and Thorstein, somewhere in front of her.

Ragnar found himself surrounded by three Saxons. He dropped his axe and grabbed a spear lying on the ground. He struggled to keep them all at bay, when Bjorn came running from behind the English and tackled one of them to the ground. He dug his blade into his throat, and Ragnar thrust his spear into another one. As Bjorn came to his feet, Ragnar grabbed him by his jacket and they ran.

* * *

The northmen were returning to their camp. Ragnar was stumbling next to King Horik and Erledur, supported by his spear.

"Do you still think, we should not have talked to them first?" Ragnar wanted to know.

"You always think, you can second-guess the gods, Ragnar", the King answered, "What happened today was fated."

When they reached the camp, Lagertha, who had supported Sansa, gently let her down to the ground. Bjorn threw his axe and shield angrily to the ground.

"You fought well today", Ragnar told him, "You are favored by the gods."

"Favored?!" Bjorn asked, "We were defeated."

"We live to fight another day", Sansa told him.

"We lived", Bjorn agreed, "But my uncle died."

"You don't know that", Ragnar told him, "It would take a lot to kill him."

He turned to the others.

"Since no spear, axe or blade could touch my son today", Ragnar declared, "He will now be known as Bjorn _Ironside_."

"We must make some decisions", Lagertha reminded them, "Do we abandon this raid and sail home, or do we sail up the coast to find some easier rich pickings elsewhere?"

"If my uncle is captured and wounded", Bjorn told her, "I want to stay in this place, until he is free."

"Well, King, what are we _fated_ to do?" Ragnar asked smiling.

* * *

Sansa was looking for Gunnar. He had been with Lagertha's warriors, so much was obvious, but in the disastrous outcome of the battle, no one was where he was supposed to be. Her efforts proving fruitless, she decided to ask Lagertha for help.

Lagertha looked at her with sad eyes, as soon as she had heard the question.

"I'm sorry, Sansa", Lagertha said, holding her close, "From what I've seen, he's dead."

"Are you certain?" Sansa gasped, hoping to wake from this nightmare.

"He was right in the middle where those riders crashed into the shield wall", Lagertha explained, "Perhaps he survived for a while, but I fear, they killed the worst wounded after the battle. It would have been unlikely that he survived in any case."

Sansa felt the world spin around her and quickly sat down on the grass, burying her face in her hands. Tears streamed from her eyes as she sobbed for hours.

* * *

In the evening, Sansa could see the fire from all the burials. They had felled large parts of the woods, to build the rafts on which the bodies had been sent onto the river, before they were burnt.

She herself had been taken care of by Lagertha and Bjorn. The half-severed ear had been swiftly cut off and the wound had been cleaned with a red-glowing blade. The cut in her shoulder had been cleaned as well, before the wound had been closed. Now she was sitting with her arm in a sling.

Ylva, one of the shield maidens that belonged to Lagertha's clan was sitting next to her. She was sporting a bandage over her left eye, where a Saxon sword had taken her sight.

"Now that your brother has a new name, what about you?" Ylva teased her friend.

"What about me?" Sansa wanted to know.

"What should we call you?" Ylva asked, "Sansa the earless?"

"I believe you appreciate your remaining eye…" Sansa said dangerously.

"Well, I believe I'll have to think about another name for you…" Ylva grumbled, "No sense of humor…"

* * *

"Are you alright?" Ragnar asked as Sansa sat down at the campfire. Sansa nodded slightly.

"You sure?" he insisted, "It's hard to loose someone close in battle."

"Lagertha told you", Sansa stated, not as a question. This time, it was Ragnar's turn to nod.

"I am sad that we only had so short time with each other", Sansa said, "I don't know what to do now. But I've cried all the tears I had in me today."

"Grieve for him", Ragnar told her, "Rejoice for him. He is in Valhalla, feasting with the gods and you will see him there one day. Death is a part of life – it is not in our power to change that."

* * *

Athelstan approached the Viking camp, riding alone through the woods. As he emerged into the open fields, he dismounted from his donkey. When they saw him, the leaders of the northmen came out of the camp to meet him. Athelstan looked from one to another.

"Do you remember me Bjorn?" he said, recognizing the boy.

"Of course I remember you", Bjorn smiled, "I wanted to kill you when I was a child and then I loved you."

"I know that you are close to your uncle", Athelstan told him, "Rollo is alive. Badly wounded, but taken care of."

He looked among the group as his eyes became wide.

"Sansa, is that really you?" he asked, "I never thought you for a shield maiden. What happened to your ear?"

"Take a guess", she smiled, "What are you doing here?"

"I'd say, you had a little accident yesterday… I was send here with a message from King Egbert", Athelstan told them all, "He wants to negotiate with you."

"He wants to kill us all", King Horik disagreed.

"He will not", Athelstan told the King, "I swear. He is prepared to offer you a hostage."

"You are his dog", Horik glared, "You lick his fingers and his arse."

"We will meet him", Lagertha said.

"Do you really want to trust King Egbert?" Horik argued.

"You don't need to come", Lagertha told him, "Ragnar and I will go."

"I will take your message back to King Egbert", Athelstan said, turning around.

"I will accompany you", Ragnar called as he walked to the front, "Part of the way."

* * *

Ragnar looked over his shoulder and could see one of Horik's men, his bow drawn and the arrow trained on Athelstan. He laid an arm around Athelstan's shoulder, making it impossible for the archer to shoot, without the risk of hitting Ragnar.

"I feared that you were dead", Ragnar told his friend, "Have you returned to your faith and renounced ours?"

"I wish it was so simple", Athelstan sighed, "In the gentle fall of the rain, I hear my god, but in the thunder, I still hear Thor. That is my agony."

"I hope that someday, our gods can become friends", Ragnar told him, "I have something to return to you."

Ragnar placed the arm ring on Athelstan's wrist, where it had been before. Athelstan looked him deep in the eyes.

"Thank you, friend", the monk answered.

* * *

The kings of Wessex and Northumbria were standing on the watchtower. They watched as several guards prepared themselves for the imminent arrival of the northmen.

"So, who have you chosen for our hostage?" King Aelle asked, "Your son again?"

"No, I didn't seem just or right to place him in danger for a second time", Egbert said.

"Then who?" Aelle wanted to know.

"Actually, you, King Aelle", Egbert told him.

"Me?" Aelle laughed.

"Except for me, there is no one, the northmen would place a higher value on", Egbert reasoned, "But of course, if you do not wish to place yourself in harm's way…"

"No, I will play the part", Aelle told him.

* * *

The Vikings were approaching the town. Lagertha, Sansa, Horik, Ragnar and Bjorn were all present, as well Thorstein and Floki.

"This is a mistake", Floki murmured.

"If you think so", Ragnar replied.

"Why must we save your brother?" Floki argued, "He killed Arne, he nearly killed me. He betrayed all of us."

"This is not only about Rollo", Ragnar reminded him.

"Oh, I know", Floki said, "It's also about the priest, who lured us here. How can you trust him, this Christian?"

Ragnar pushed his horse forward and faced Floki.

"You talk about trust?" he asked, "You?"

"I am a trustworthy person!" Floki called.

Ragnar gave him a doubting snort.

* * *

The gates opened and several Saxons rode out to meet them.

"Here is a noble hostage", Prince Athelwulf said.

"King Aelle", Ragnar greeted him, "It has been a long time…"

Floki and Thorstein took king Aelle back to the camp, while the other's entered the city. They dismounted their horses and entered the royal villa.

* * *

King Egbert was awaiting them in a hall, where tables had been prepared for all of them.

"Welcome", King Egbert said in the Norse language, "Please sit down."

They approached the table, most of them still sporting bruises, black eyes, sprained ankles. Sansa was still having her arm in her sling and they all still wore their blood and mud encrusted battle dresses. A woman was standing up from the table as they walked closer. She was wearing an elegant dress and had a beautiful face, framed by black hair.

"Bjorn, do you mind, helping me with the chair?" Sansa murmured.

Bjorn stood behind her and pulled back the chair, until his sister had taken her seat.

"Athelstan taught me some words in your language", King Egbert explained, "Please forgive me for not speaking properly, but we want to make peace today."

Athelstan stood up and looked at the guests.

"King Egbert desires me to outline possible terms of a treaty", he said, "The King is prepared to pay you money, to stop any further attacks on his territories. He is certain in his wish for peace and hopes that Ragnar Lothbrok shares his wish. More importantly, he has prepared 5,000 acres of good land, for farming, in peace."

"Finally, may I present to you, Princess Kwentrith from the Kingdom of Mercia", Athelstan introduced the woman who had awaited them, "She is prepared to pay any of your warriors a fat fee, to fight for her in the struggle for the throne of Mercia."

"What about my brother?" Ragnar asked.

"The King will release Rollo upon your acceptance of the agreement", Athelstan informed him, "And upon the safe return of King Aelle."

"I accept the offer", Ragnar said immediately.

"As do I", Lagertha agreed.

All eyes were on King Horik. Finally, he nodded. King Egbert began to smile.

"We have an agreement", Egbert declared happily, "Now, may I invite you all to stay for a while and eat?"

* * *

A feast was brought to the table, and everyone began to eat.

"I would not have expected their women to wear armor as well", Kwentrith whispered to Egbert.

"Why should we not wear armor?" Sansa asked from across the table.

"You speak our language?!" Egbert said, surprised.

"I do", Sansa replied, "And for those of us who fight, armor is essential, why should we not wear it?"

"There are women fighting in your country?" Kwentrith wanted to know, "So you were wounded in battle?"

"Some of us are warriors", Sansa smiled, "And the gods probably were so busy, keeping my uncle alive, that they could not watch out for me as well…"

* * *

The cart approached the northern camp. Rollo was lying in it, barely able to move. The cuts and broken bones had been bandaged. Ragnar and his children were smiling down on him.

King Aelle rode out of the camp, to meet the party that had delivered Rollo. He joined the riders who had accompanied Rollo here.

"Whoever wishes to fight as mercenaries for Princess Kwentrith, come forward now!" Athelstan declared. For a moment, no one moved, before the first Viking took a step towards the Saxons. Another followed, and about two dozen assembled among the English riders.

Ragnar approached Athelstan. "I am taking my brother home", he told the monk, "Are you coming with us?"

* * *

In Kattegat, Aslaug watched as Thorunn practiced to fight on the beach. She had asked an old warrior to teach her.

"Who told you, you should do that?" Aslaug asked as she walked closer.

"No one", Thorunn admitted, "I am doing this for myself. I want to fight in the shield wall. I want to be like Lagertha…"

"Why does everyone want to be like Lagertha", Aslaug wondered. As Thorunn hesitated, she smiled.

"Don't worry", she said, "I understand."

"I have decided to make you a free woman", Aslaug announced, "You are no longer my slave. You will only serve me in my household, if you choose."

"That is impossible", Thorunn gasped.

"Yet, it has happened", Aslaug smiled, "This is a gift."

She handed Thorunn a package. Thorunn carefully opened it and revealed a dress. It was made of dark blue wool and there was also a necklace wrapped into the package.

* * *

The ships had been tied to the pier in Kattegat now the warriors were disembarking. Rollo had to be carried ashore on a stretcher, while Sansa stumbled by, supported by Ylva. Athelstan followed them, amazed upon his return to the town.

As they entered the great hall, they were greeted by Aslaug and the others. Ragnar kissed his wife, as Sansa walked closer.

"Thank the gods - you are back", Aslaug sighed. As she saw Sansa, her eyes became wide.

"Sansa! What happened to you?" she asked.

"I think, the gods were fully occupied with keeping Rollo alive, they couldn't look out for me", Sansa told her. Aslaug merely shook her head in despair and went on to Lagertha.

"Lagertha, you are most welcome", she greeted her, handing her a cup of Ale.

"And you came back", Aslaug enthused as she encountered Athelstan.

"I did", he smiled, "I came back, because you and Ragnar, all of you are my family."

"Drink, priest", Thorstein told him, handing him a horn of Ale.

Finally, Bjorn entered the room.

"Bjorn, welcome home", Aslaug greeted him.

"Princess", he replied. Then his eyes fell on Thorunn, standing behind Aslaug.

"I have made her a free woman", Aslaug told him, "She is no longer a slave."

* * *

Ragnar watched with dismay, as Siggy and another woman were working on Rollo's wounds. The big gaping wound on his chest, where an English rider's horse's hoof hat hit him and broken several of his ribs, was cleansed with a red glowing blade. The smell of burnt flesh filled the room, as Siggy pressed the heated knife into the open wound.

Then they began to work on the leg, which had been broken and bent out of its natural angle. Ragnar placed a stick of wood between Rollo's jaws, to prevent him from biting off his tongue. Siggy held the upper thigh and the other woman pulled forcibly on Rollo's ankle, causing the sheared bone to glide back under the skin, where it rested in the correct position.

Rollo bit on the wood, to ease the pain as the bone slipped, and grunted loudly. Siggy shot him an understanding glance, before she continued. Rollo bit further onto the wood, and finally lost his consciousness, as the two women applied wooden splints to stabilize his shin.

* * *

A week after their return, Sansa was sitting next to Aslaug, trying to gather her courage for a confession she needed to make.

"Sansa, my dear, what is it?" Aslaug asked, as she noticed her nervousness.

"I think I'm with child", Sansa blurted out.

"I see", Aslaug smiled, "Are you certain?"

"My bleeding would have been at the time of our return, give or take a day", Sansa calculated, "I'm a week late now…"

"Who is the father?" Aslaug wanted to know.

"He's dead", Sansa whimpered, "He died in battle."

Aslaug took her adopted daughter in her arms, trying to calm the younger woman.

* * *

Floki was sitting in his boathouse, as King Horik stepped behind him.

"Floki, we can be honest with each other?" the King asked. Floki nodded.

"We know each other well", Horik continued, "We know the things we like and those we hate. We think similarly about the gods and the world, am I not right?"

"Yes, King Horik", Floki agreed.

"I have a proposition to put to you", the King said.

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 _A/N: I hope your expectations to this battle scene were met!  
_

 _Let me get something straight: Sansa has had a closer call than Rollo during the battle. And yet, her wounds are comparatively less grave. A viking age sword can easily cut through a skull, but there's that small chance that in the right angle, with just the right force, it can glance off. That's what happened to her.  
_

 _And when the skull itself is not damaged, the wound is only superficial, or at least not threatening the brain. One could actually live without skin or flesh over the most part of the skull, only the wounds sustained to reach such a state would often be fatal. And of course, it would be far more prone to infections._

 _And while the blade actually reached the bone of Sansa's skull, her skin is still mostly intact, with the right bandage (and extremely good luck) it could regrow together, leaving only a scar on the side of her face and a missing ear._

 _I hope this helped._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	21. The Lord's Prayer

_A/N: Already at the end of Vikings Season 2!_

 ** _Thank you for your reviews! As well as all those who follow or favorited this story!  
_**

 _Back home in Kattegat...  
_

 _ **Warning:** **Graphical violence ahead!** I feel like I'm writing more often chapters that need that warning than not... **  
**_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of Thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 **Chapter 21 The Lord's prayer**

The small fisherman's boat was being tied to the pier in Kattegat. A blonde woman climbed onto the pier, carrying a sleeping baby. She walked along the pier until she saw the one she was looking for.

Floki was asleep on the cold planks of the pier. Just a short nap in the afternoon, and he didn't bother to get back inside.

"Floki, it's me", Helga said.

"Helga?" Floki asked, waking up. He opened his eyes and sat up, when he saw the sleeping baby in his wife's arms.

"We have a child", Helga told him, "A beautiful girl."

"A girl", Floki said in amazement, "I don't want to drop her."

"You won't drop her", Helga encouraged him, as she handed the baby over, "What should we call her?"

Floki looked at the baby for a few seconds, then handed his daughter back to Helga.

"Angrboda", he said.

"The name of Loki's first wife?" Helga asked, "But I thought she was evil – they had monstrous offspring…"

"She was a great giantess", Floki reminded her, "And now you must leave Kattegat and go back."

"Leave?" Helga was surprised, "Are you going back with us?"

"No, I must stay here", Floki told her, "But you must leave at once. Something might happen here…"

* * *

Several days later, Horik and Erlendur were enthusiastically on the pier. They watched as a single ship rowed nearer.

"They're here!" Erlendur exclaimed, smiling brightly.

They both ran out on the pier, and greeted their family. King Horik kissed his wife, while Erlendur was assaulted by his little brothers, hugging him tightly. When he placed them at the floor again, he greeted his younger sisters.

"Come, family", Horik addressed them, "I want you to meet Ragnar."

They walked along the pier, where Ragnar and Aslaug were waiting for them. The royal family was invited to the great hall, where they all gathered in front of the high seat.

"Ragnar Lothbrok, my friend and ally", King Horik began, "Let me present to you properly, my wife Gunnhild, and my children."

"You and I form an alliance on which the future of our country depends", Horik declared, "I see you as an equal. Between us, and of course Earl Ingstad, we have achieved so much. We have land and opportunity in Wessex, and that is just the beginning. We already know of many other worlds that we shall discover."

The crowd cheered, as the King paused for a second.

"We will do so, together", Horik declared, "Not only united by the bond of necessity and friendship, but by the bonds of family. For you have many sons, and as you can see – I have many daughters."

Everyone cheered at this obvious proposal, made in such a public forum.

"It is our custom, to celebrate such an alliance, with feasting and with pledges", Horik told them. Everyone cheered even louder, as they looked for their places, before the feast began.

* * *

"You must be the famous shield maiden Lagertha", Gunnhild said, stepping behind Lagertha.

"You are more famous, Gunnhild", Lagertha complimented her, "The poets sing of how you have slain Sweyn Forkbeard."

"And they say, that you are now an Earl of your own right", Gunnhild recalled, "How did that happen?"

"I killed my husband, when he invaded me", Lagertha said mischievously. Gunnhild broke out in loud laughter, while Sansa stepped to the two women. The bandage on her head was gone, but she still had to carry her arm in a sling.

"Sansa!" Lagertha greeted her, "Where have you been?"

"That friggin' cut broke open again", Sansa explained, "I had to apply a new bandage."

"Gunnhild, this is my stepdaughter, Sansa", Lagertha introduced her, "Gunnhild is the wife of King Horik."

"An honor to meet you", Sansa told her.

"It is my pleasure, to meet the family of my husband's ally and friend", Gunnhild told her, "With a fresh injury like that, I take it - you are a shield maiden as well?"

"I am", Sansa admitted, "And I hope, that I will be healed so that I can fight again one day… although my mother would surely like me to stop."

"Sansa was wounded in Wessex", Lagertha explained, "But I am sure, she will heal – the gods would surely not waste such a talented fighter."

* * *

Floki was standing beside King Horik, his drinking horn in his hands, filled with Ale.

"What is it?" Horik asked him.

"Don't you remember? You were going to put a proposition to me", Floki told him, "And I'm still waiting."

"The thing is, Floki", the King said, "I am not entirely sure I can trust you."

* * *

Bjorn and Thorunn were outside the hall, talking in the streets.

"You are a free woman now", Bjorn stated, "What will you do with your freedom?"

"I will use it to _choose_ ", Thorunn told him earnestly.

"Choose what?" Bjorn asked.

"When I was a slave, I was told what I had to do", Thorunn recalled, "You were the first to treat me as if I was not a slave, so I loved you. Now I have choices."

"There are plenty of other women around", Bjorn reminded her.

" _That_ is your first mistake", Thorunn declared angrily.

* * *

Floki was pouring himself another drink, as King Horik snuck up behind him.

"Forgive me, Floki, I know I should trust you", the King said, "But I need proof."

"What?" Floki asked.

"Prove to me, that I can trust you", Horik repeated.

"How can I prove it?" Floki wanted to know.

"Kill someone", Horik ordered, "Someone who matters."

* * *

Sansa was talking with Astrid, one of the King's daughters. Astrid was a blonde girl of 13 years, in awe of Sansa's tales from their journey to England. So far, the only shield maiden, she had known, was her mother. The girl was excited to meet more of those famous shield maidens, like Lagertha and Sansa.

"So, how was it? Fighting in battle?" the girl asked eagerly.

"It is dangerous", Sansa told her, "And it is a feeling that you cannot describe – you are so nervous, and yet you feel invincible. And then, as it goes on, you get less and less nervous, but you do realize, you are not invincible after all."

Sansa smiled at the little girl. She reminded her so much of her own sister Arya, craving for stories of heroic battles and wishing to join the warriors.

By now, Sansa could no longer think about battle as it was described in songs and poems. She had stopped believing in the stories of noble knights and honor-guided rulers. That had been herself, a long time ago. In the truest meaning of the words, it had been in another life.

Now she was a shield maiden. She would never give up on that, but she had already stopped to see battle as a noble thing. It was a cruel thing, and sometimes you had to be cruel to survive.

* * *

When Sansa awoke in the morning, she didn't need long to figure that she was about to retch up her meal from the feast the day before. Considering that she'd drunk not that much, it was hardly possible to be a hangover.

She quickly ran outside and after her meal had left her stomach, she wiped her mouth with her hand. Hardly a doubt was left. She was truly with child.

* * *

The next day, King Horik's and Ragnar's children were playing on the market place. Aslaug and Gunnhild watched in happiness.

"Seems our children are allies, too", Gunnhild smiled. Aslaug nodded in agreement. Gunnhild walked closer and kept a watchful eye on the whole bunch. Lagertha came closer and stepped beside Aslaug.

"How is Ivar?" she asked. Aslaug looked at her.

"Do you know?" Aslaug queried. Lagertha only nodded.

"I want to tell you, what you are doing is far more courageous, than fighting in a shield wall", Lagertha told the troubled mother.

* * *

At noon, Ragnar, Bjorn, Lagertha, Horik and Erlendur were sitting at the table eating lunch.

"Next year, I think we should go to Wessex and claim the land from King Egbert", Bjorn stated, "Those who wish to farm should do so and divide the land between them."

"What should the rest of us do?" Horik asked, "Those who are not farmers."

"They can join King Egbert and Princess Kwentrith in the battle for Mercia", Bjorn explained, "They'd be rewarded well."

"I don't like the idea of being Egbert's handmaiden", Horik spat, "Unlike Ragnar, I don't trust him. And I still have a score to settle with him."

"But isn't it better to trust him, to see if he is honest?" Erlendur argued, "He might well be honest, or maybe he is not. We will see."

* * *

Floki entered the house where Siggy was caring for Rollo. Siggy looked up, as she saw him standing in the door.

"How is he?" Floki asked her.

"Alive", Siggy said desperately.

"Will he ever walk again?" Floki inquired.

"Only the gods know", Siggy sighed.

"Take a break", Floki told her, "You have been sitting with him day and night. Go home and rest. I will watch him."

Siggy looked back at Rollo, unsure for a moment. Then she nodded and left the house. Floki walked into the smaller room, where Rollo was lying in his sickbed.

"You put me in a bed like this once", Floki recounted, "Don't you remember?"

Rollo nodded barely.

"I brought you something", Floki announced. He put his hand in his pockets and pulled out a mushroom, he had collected in the woods.

"Look, Rollo, it's the food of the gods", Floki enthused. He placed the mushrooms in Rollo's half open mouth and pushed gently, making Rollo chew and then swallow the mushrooms.

* * *

In the evening, there was another small feast in the great hall. The children were chasing each other around the table. Floki grabbed out and held Ubba on his arm.

"Ubba, bring these to Thorstein", Floki said, handing the little boy some mushrooms, "Tell him, they are from his good friend Floki."

Ubba wanted to go, when Floki stopped him once more.

"And no one else must ever know, that it was me who gave them to him", Floki cautioned him, "The gods would be very angry, and we don't want that to happen, do we?"

Ubba shook his head and ran over to Thorstein. Thorstein took the mushrooms, ate them and raised his cup in a silent salute to Floki.

* * *

It had become midnight. The party had dissolved and some had gone home, others opted to sleep in the main room of the great hall.

A woman's loud scream awoke them all from their sleeps. One of the servants had seen Thorstein, lying lifeless on the floor. He had choked on his own vomit.

Bjorn stood over the body in shock.

"My friend Thorstein has been murdered", he said, trying to grasp the fact, "I swear by the gods, I am going to avenge him."

Floki stepped forward. "We will find, whoever did this", he told Bjorn, "And we will flay the skin from his body and tear his limbs apart with horses!"

Horik watched with well-acted surprise the events in the hall. He was glad, Floki had proven himself trustworthy.

* * *

In the early hours of morning, just before sunrise, Floki was sitting in the hut by his shipyard. He jumped, when he heard someone enter and turned around, his dagger at the ready.

"It's just me, my fried", Horik said cautiously. Floki lowered the dagger.

"Now I know that I can trust you", Horik told him.

"What is your plan?" Floki asked.

"I will kill them all", the King declared, "Ragnar and Aslaug, even Lagertha. I'll wipe the whole family of the face of the earth."

"What about Bjorn?" Floki reminded the King.

"Bjorn _Ironside_. He is difficult to kill", Horik admitted, "Maybe the gods do protect him… I need you to find a way to kill him."

"And Sansa?" Floki queried.

"Sansa will not pose a big problem", Horik said, "After all, she is still too weak to fight."

Floki nodded, "When?"

"Tomorrow", Horik declared.

* * *

Lagertha was standing on the beach, looking out into the fjord. In a little distance, there was a storm brewing, yet it had not yet reached the town.

She did not turn her head, as Aslaug stepped next to her. She didn't need to, she had noticed her presence anyway.

"The gods are coming", Aslaug commented, as she also watched the storm.

* * *

Thorunn was early on the market. She was looking through the merchandise, when she saw Bjorn walk up to her. Still angry at him, she turned around and tried to get away.

"Thorunn! Wait!" he called. She just kept on walking, pretending she didn't hear him.

"Forgive me for what I said", he called, "I don't want other women – I want you!"

He caught up with her. "What do you want from me?" he asked.

"Respect", she sneered.

"You know I respect you, Thorunn", Bjorn told her, "I worship you."

"That's ridiculous", Thorunn argued, "I spent my life as a slave, I don't want to be worshipped."

"What can I do?" Bjorn asked in exasperation.

"You can fight me", Thorunn told him.

* * *

Sansa walked into her parents' bedroom, searching for her brooch. She stopped in her tracks, when she looked at the bed. Soundly asleep, she could see the naked bodies of her parents, covered loosely by blankets. She had seen that before, and although she had been nervous in the beginning, she had seen them together sometimes.

This time something was different. Sansa took a closer look and counted _five_ naked legs. She walked over to the other side of the bed and found Lagertha, asleep as well, snuggled tightly next to Aslaug.

Sansa smiled to herself, and decided to retreat from the bedroom, before any of them woke up.

* * *

Siggy watched in dismay, as Rollo tried to stand up from his sickbed. He carefully heaved himself up on a wooden crutch. He stood there for a moment, then gathered his courage to move his feet. He carefully began to move, then the crutch slipped on the wooden floor.

Rollo fell to the floor, and groaned loudly, as the pain shot through his legs. Siggy was beside him in an instant.

"Don't give up", she encouraged him.

"What do you care?" Rollo asked, frustrated.

"Honestly, I don't know", Siggy told him with a stern look, "But I feel that you still can be useful."

Siggy stood up and took an axe from a belt hanging on the wall. She walked over to the kitchen table and placed it visibly on the surface. Then she left the house, leaving Rollo to his thoughts.

* * *

In the market place, she was approached by King Horik.

"Shouldn't you be with your wife?" she asked him.

"You once promised me Ragnar's secret weakness", he reminded her, "I don't remember that you ever told me."

"Maybe you have all your seed wasted on a promise", Siggy smiled.

"Tell me now", Horik urged her.

"Isn't it obvious?" Siggy told him, "His family is his weakness. Especially his children."

"Then I have something, you must do", Horik instructed her, "At sunset, you must go to the great hall and kill Ragnar's young sons."

"What do I get in return?" Siggy asked him.

"I will marry you", Horik offered, "Gunnhild is my only wife at the moment. I will take a second. You will rule again, as you once did."

He handed her a dagger which Siggy hid beneath the layers of her dress. Siggy watched, deep in thoughts, as the King walked away.

* * *

Bjorn had followed Thorunn into the woods. He had agreed to fight her, now they would. When they reached a clearing, Bjorn undid his weapon's belt, dropping his axe to the floor.

He looked at Thorunn, inviting her to the first punch. Thorunn charged at him, punching and kicking. Her fists were raining down on Bjorn and he felt the first bruises on his skin. Still he hesitated to hit her back.

Thorunn threw a mean punch and her fist connected with Bjorn's chin. He could feel his teeth grind on another, while he tried to defend himself. Thorunn stepped closer and hammered on his side. Bjorn finally saw red and drew his hand back in a fist. He punched her and hit her square in the belly.

Thorunn staggered back, winded. Bjorn wanted to apologize as she resumed her attack, fiercer than before. They both exchanged blows and soon, they were both sporting black eyes and split lips.

Thorunn twisted around, pulling Bjorn down by his arm and landing on top of him. She let her fists fly down on Bjorn who blocked some with his forearms, then grabbed her by her shoulders and whirled her around, pinning Thorunn to the grassy ground.

As Bjorn leaned forward to kiss her, she grabbed him by his short hair and pulled him off. Bjorn, surprised by the attack lost his grip on her for a moment. Thorunn pulled herself free and ran off into the woods.

Bjorn quickly stood up and gathered his weapon's belt. He followed the direction where she had run.

"Thorunn, I'm sorry!" he called.

He looked around, trying to see Thorunn run. A short distance away, he found her sitting on a rotting trunk. As he slowly walked closer, she looked up and he could see the damage he had done. She had one black eye, just beginning to show, and a large bruise on her cheek. Her lower lip had been split and her nose was bleeding.

Thorunn looked up, waiting for Bjorn to come closer. As he was within a hand's reach, she took his hands and kissed them gently. Bjorn looked at her in confusion, before Thorunn stood up from the trunk. She started kissing him passionately and more eager with every second.

Thorunn and Bjorn fell onto the grass, and without even noticing, Bjorn's tunic was gone. Thorunn pulled him down, as she laid herself onto the grass, with one hand already untying the laces of her dress.

Neither one of them saw Floki as he watched from behind a tree. Carefully, he drew his sword.

* * *

In the house where Horik and his family were staying, the King was talking to his oldest son. He unwrapped a package and revealed a beautiful ceremonial sword. Its guard, grip and pommel were gilded and decorated with gems. The blade was polished so it shone like silver, powerful runes cut into the fuller.

"This is the sword of the King", Horik told his son, "Tonight, we must do something extraordinary. We must overcome the magic of Ragnar Lothbrok. He threatens our power. We must kill him and all of his breed, for if one of that family survives, the day will come, when he will rise again and destroy us."

Erlendur nodded, still admiring the sword.

"Trust in the gods", Horik encouraged him, "And surely, one day, they will grant you the sword and a kingdom."

* * *

Ragnar and Athelstan had wandered off into the woods. Now they were standing on the bottom of a giant waterfall, looking up.

"I've seen you pray to your god", Ragnar told Athelstan, "Will you teach me one of your prayers, so I can learn?"

Athelstan looked at him for a second. Then he knelt down on the ground and folded his hands. He waited till Ragnar had followed and was in a similar pose. Then he prayed:

" _Our Father who art in heaven,  
hallowed be thy name.  
Thy kingdom come.  
Thy will be done  
on earth as it is in heaven.  
Give us this day our daily bread,  
and forgive us our trespasses,  
as we forgive those who trespass against us,  
and lead us not into temptation,  
but deliver us from evil.  
For ever and ever. Amen."_

* * *

Night had fallen over Kattegat. Horik was waiting fully armed, just outside of the town. Erlendur led the warriors to him. They had arrived in two ships that had disembarked a little out of sight from the town. They strode through the streets of Kattegat, quietly.

At a campfire, several of Ragnar's warriors were warming themselves. Two of Horik's men quickly shot them dead with arrows. The King's army moved through the streets, when they encountered two sole guards. The guards had no way of getting away, but they were able to draw their weapons. They put up a fight, but after a short clash, Horik's men cut them down.

By now, the sound of battle could be heard all over Kattegat, as many of the town's warriors were murdered. Rollo was lying in his sickbed, he had spent the entire afternoon trying to reach the axe, Siggy had placed on the table. Somehow, he finally had succeeded.

Two of Horik's warriors entered the house, ready for battle. Rollo looked angrily at them, before he grabbed the axe lying next to him, and slowly stood up. They all moved at the same time, Rollo burying his axe deep in the attacker's chest.

Athelstan was standing behind the corner of a house, watching the battle unfold in front of him.

"And deliver us from evil", he prayed, before he lunged forward. His axe hit one of Horik's men in his side. Athelstan turned around and cut another warrior's head off.

Lagertha and a handful of her warriors walked over the place, ignoring the battle all around them. They were armed as well, and they had a specific target.

Sansa was asleep, when the attacker's entered her room. She'd been staying at a friend's home this night, the great hall had been too packed for her taste.

When the door was shoved open, Sansa sat upright in her bed. She eyed the attackers, who stood in the door for a moment. Then they leaped forward, the sword coming straight down to Sansa's head. She did not move, as if she was going to take the blow. Only in the last moment, her left arm went up, grabbing her attacker's wrist. She twisted it around and pulled. Her attack took her opponent by surprise and she held his sword. Sansa swung the sword around with her left hand, opening the attacker's throat. Sansa whirled around and stabbed the other attacker in the belly.

* * *

Gunnhild was ready for battle. Her daughters had helped her to put her armor on, now she assembled her guard and was about to join the battle, when the door in front of her was shoved open. Her guards were attacked by others, her daughters and her younger sons fled to the bedroom.

Gunnhid looked up and found herself facing Lagertha, battle-ready as well. Lagertha had dropped her shield and began with several attacks with her sword which Gunnhild parried. When Lagertha's sword had been parried, Lagertha used her free hand to punch Gunnhild in the face. Gunnhild stumbled back, then answered with a swing of her sword, which would have cut Lagertha's arm off, had she not just stepped aside. Gunnhild's blade merely cut through the air, and Lagertha stepped in, grabbing Gunnhild by her hair. Gunnhild hit her opponent in the back with the pommel on her sword, which sent Lagertha staggering back, till she fell against the wall. Gunnhild swung her sword again, a wide arched chop. Lagertha parried, but was forced to duck. Another chop by Gunnhild and Lagertha was sitting on the floor.

Gunnhild raised her sword to finish Lagertha off, when Lagertha suddenly lunged forward, burying her blade in Gunnhild's hip. Pain shot through the older shield maiden's body, and she fell on her back. Lagertha stood up and looked at her for a moment, before she stabbed her sword in Gunnhild's chest, killing her.

Lagertha stood up again and walked into the other room, where the children were hiding behind the bed, shivering for fear. One of the warriors stepped next to her.

"Earl Ingstad, you should leave now", he told Lagertha, "I have orders from Earl Ragnar…"

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 _A/N: So I've decided to cut here and make an extra chapter of the end of the episode and my own version of the events until the first episode of Season 3.  
_

 _I hope you liked it..._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	22. The Sword of Kings

_A/N: Already at the end of Vikings Season 2!_

 ** _Thank you for your reviews! As well as all those who follow or favorited this story!  
_**

 _Picks up right where we left off in the previous chapter. King Horik is attacking Kattegat...  
_

 _ **Warning:** **Graphical violence ahead!** **  
**_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of Thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 **Chapter 22 The Sword of Kings**

King Horik, Erlendur and several of their warriors marched to Kattegat's great hall. Their swords were reddened with the blood of many of Ragnar's men. The warriors spread out to the back entrances, while the King and his son remained at the front door.

They pushed the doors open and entered the main room. The room lay in complete darkness, only the light from the burning town illuminated it.

A man sat in the middle of the room, his back to the King. He was wearing a cloak and had his hood pulled up, so no one could see his face.

"Ragnar Lothbrok!" Horik addressed him. There was really only one possible identity for the man.

He stood up and turned around. The hooded man pulled his hood back and revealed two axes in his hands. It was _Thorstein_.

In this moment, several of Ragnar's and Lagertha's warriors attacked Horik's men from behind, killing them quickly. Suddenly, Horik and Erlendur found themselves surrounded by foes. From the other end of the hall, Floki emerged.

"Floki, you have betrayed the gods", Horik accused him.

"No, King Horik. I only betrayed you", Floki admitted, "I was always true to the gods – and Ragnar."

Ragnar and Aslaug stepped out of the adjoining room and stood beside Floki. Bjorn and Lagertha joined them and entered through the side doors of the great hall.

Horik looked around. He realized he had lost this game. He dropped his shield but still held on to his sword.

"Ragnar", the King said, "If you can find it in your heart, spare my son."

One of the warriors stepped forward and pulled Erlendur's shield down. He held him by his arms so he could not move.

Horik took a deep breath, gathering his courage for the final steps of his life. He stepped forward, and Lagertha slashed with her sword at him, leaving a shallow cut on his back.

Bjorn was next, digging his axe in the King's belly, before Thorstein did the same on the other side. Horik kept walking forward, determined not to show the pain he was experiencing.

As he stepped before Ragnar, he dropped to his knees. Floki walked past him, leaving the room. Siggy entered and handed Ragnar a dagger, the one that Horik had given her to kill Ragnar's children. Ragnar took the dagger and stood for a moment, towering over Horik.

All the others left the hall, leaving Ragnar alone, to deal with the dying King. Ragnar took the dagger, Siggy had handed him and drove it into Horik's guts. He pulled it back and watched, as the blood dripped from its blade.

Horik spat blood, already mortally wounded, but still alive. Ragnar tossed the dagger aside and knelt down, so that he and Horik were of the same height. He grabbed Horik by his shoulders and headbutted him. Horik fell to the ground, his face smashed.

* * *

Bjorn walked over to the house, where Horik's family had been staying. He took in the scene of the massacre. Horik's sons and his youngest daughter had been killed. The other two daughters were lying amongst the bodies, crying loudly.

They stopped crying when Bjorn entered the room. He was drenched with blood, and held his axe in his hand. The older daughter of Horik tried to calm herself down, afraid, he would now kill them.

"Go!" Bjorn urged them after a moment of thinking. They both ran out of the house quickly.

Bjorn looked around in the room and discovered what he was looking for. He unwrapped the package and revealed the King's sword, with its beautiful gilded handle. Carefully he took it and brought it to his father.

* * *

By now, Ragnar's fury had vanished. He was sitting in the great hall on his chair, holding a cup of Ale. The mutilated body of King Horik was lying to his feet. Sansa and Lagertha walked in and looked at the body.

Finally, the guards brought Erlendur back into the room. He stared at his father's dead body.

"I should probably kill you", Ragnar told him blankly, "Don't you agree?"

"I hope you would honor my father's last wish and spare my life", Erlendur said.

"But why should I?" Ragnar wanted to know. Erlendur fell to his knees before him and uncovered the ring on his arm.

"I swear allegiance and fealty to you, _King_ Ragnar Lothbrok", Erlendur, said, "From this day, to my last hour. I swear with the gods as my witnesses."

"That is pleasant to hear", Ragnar said, "But I still don't know whether I should kill you or not…"

"I never thought about being King", Erlendur told him, "I always knew that my brother would become the king. All I want is to see the settlement in England prosper and grow. And with my siblings dead, I am the last one of my family. I beg you for my life, King Ragnar."

Ragnar thought for what seemed an hour to Erlendur. Finally, he looked directly in his eyes.

"Very well, I spare your life", he told him, "Who am I to dishonor the last words of a dying king? Now get him out of here."

The guards grabbed Erlendur by his arms and dragged him out of the great hall. Soon after Erlendur had left, Bjorn entered the room and handed his father the royal sword.

Ragnar took the sword in his hands, and before his eyes, Bjorn knelt before him.

"I swear my allegiance and fealty to you as my king, father", he declared, "From now to the moment I die."

"Thank you, Bjorn", Ragnar said.

"I swear to be true to you", Sansa declared, "With the gods as my witness, from now on to my last breath."

"Thank you, my dear", Ragnar smiled. Then Lagertha stepped forward.

"I swear to you, I will honor you as my king, Ragnar", she told him, "I pledge my fealty to you, with the gods as my witnesses. I want you to know that you will always have an ally in me."

"Thank you Lagertha", Ragnar answered, "I knew I could count on you."

Aslaug stepped forward and kissed her husband passionately.

"I am so happy for you", she told him. They were all glad that this night was over. And the thought of being the new royal family had its advantages, Sansa thought.

* * *

Ragnar had taken the sword with him, and had ordered them all, to leave him alone for a few hours. He had cleaned the blood of his face, had changed into clean clothes, and took his fur-trimmed cloak and the sword. Then he had climbed up the cliffs overlooking Kattegat and the fjord. There had had sat for hours, the King's sword resting on a rock and against his shoulder.

* * *

In the town, the people were busy to repair the damages, done by this night of bloodshed. Several houses had been burnt, hundreds of dead bodies were lying in the streets and drifting in the shallow water just below the beach and the pier.

Sansa and Bjorn had been to Rollo's house, looking for him. They found him sitting in the chair at the table, the bodies of the two attackers lying at his feet.

"How are you, uncle?" Sansa asked, as they entered.

"I'm fine", he informed them, "What was all that about?"

"Horik betrayed us and tried to kill us all", Bjorn told him.

"How's my brother?" Rollo asked, "He isn't dead, is he?"

"No, he's very much alive", Sansa smiled, "He's the new King."

"Good", Rollo smiled.

* * *

The next day, they began to spread the word throughout the kingdom. Riders were sent to the towns, inviting the Earls to pledge their allegiance and fealty to their new king. Shortly thereafter, ships brought guests from all over Denmark to Kattegat.

Most of the Earls came themselves, taking the opportunity to meet the famous Viking, their new King. Others sent messengers and gifts. The Earls spoke their pledges and congratulated Ragnar and his family loudly.

Ragnar invited them all for a feast and to stay for a few days, giving him the chance to get to know each other better. After all, most of his power was depending on the cooperation of the Earls. Some of them might even try and overthrow him, as Ragnar had done himself with Horik.

* * *

Thorunn had become a permanent member of the household, being Bjorn's lover. And despite possible grudges between the former slave and her masters, she was a welcome addition to the family's table.

Rollo joined them regularly as well, his healing making good progress. Sansa's shoulder had also healed, leaving only a big scar on her skin.

* * *

Sansa awoke in the middle of the night, reaching feverishly for the bucket she kept standing next to her bed. Just in time she grabbed it, before the contents of her stomach left her mouth.

When she stopped retching, Sansa wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, sighing deeply. Now that she was awake, she was sure she would be unable to get back to sleep right now, especially with the vile taste in her mouth and the stench filling the room.

Cursing herself for getting pregnant, she dragged the bucket out of her room and emptied it onto the dark streets. She placed the now empty bucket next to her bed again, before she snatched herself a cup of ale, to wash the taste away.

* * *

Life became normal again as the winter set in over Kattegat. Most of the Earls and emissaries had left, even Lagertha had returned to her Earldom for the time being. The boats had been prepared for the winter, the roofs were more often covered in snow.

Sansa had taken up her exercises again, to be ready for their return to Wessex in the coming spring. She fought with Bjorn and Ragnar, occasionally with Rollo and often with Thorunn as well. Bjorn's lover had expressed her desire to join them in their raids, so Sansa had agreed to teach her. Sansa was getting used to the sword she had captured during the attack, she kept practicing to fight with the sword, instead of her well-used axe.

They two young women spent most of their days either on the market place or down at the beach, where they had the space to practice. Fighting with shield and without, with axes, swords and even daggers was their main activity, as long as the full force of winter had not yet reached the town. Most evenings, they returned with bruises all over their bodies and their muscles aching badly.

Sansa's belly was growing bigger and she soon had to cease her exercising, she was simply unable to move fast enough and she tired to fast that was barely able to spar for a short while.

* * *

The winter had come at last, when an accident happened to Ragnar. Another feast was held in the great hall. Ragnar was in the great hall, drinking with the others. He stood up to reach for another cup of ale, when he slipped and fell. The floor was wet from the molten snow that had been dragged in, and in his condition, Ragnar was unable to get a hold of himself.

For a moment, everyone looked at him, and they thought he could catch his balance, then he moved and fell right into the hearth fire in the middle of the room. Immediately, his clothes and his hair was aflame. Ragnar rolled out of the fire, extinguishing the fire by his movements.

Bjorn was quickly next to him and helped his father up, trying to move him over to the bedroom, where he sat the drunk Ragnar down on his bed. He took a good look on his father's skin. Ragnar had been saved by his leather tunic, there were only rather small burns on his body. His face had somehow been spared completely, yet his hair had been burned away almost to its full length.

* * *

Aslaug watched Ragnar sleep off his intoxication and watched in dismay his drunken state. Finally, just shortly of noon, Ragnar opened his eyes again.

"Gods, my head is killing me!" he declared. When his hand touched his face and didn't feel any trace of his long hair, he looked puzzled.

"What happened to my hair?" Ragnar asked.

Aslaug merely shrugged.

"Don't you remember?" she asked in frustration.

"No", Ragnar admitted.

"You were too drunk last night", Aslaug spat, "You fell into the fire and burned the hair off your head!"

"Did I?" Ragnar said disbelievingly.

"Yes, you did", Aslaug answered, before she stalked out of the room. Ragnar stood up from his bed, still uncertain on his feet, a repercussion of all the Ale he had drunk. He staggered out of the bedroom and out of the hall, where he needed to relief himself in a corner of the street.

"That is not a behavior appropriate for a king", he heard someone say behind him. He turned around and found himself staring into his daughter's face.

"I seem to have pushed it a little too far last night", Ragnar admitted, "I think your mother is angry with me…"

"Really?" Sansa sighed, her brow raised in sarcasm, "You only _think_ she's angry?"

"Oh yes, you are my daughter", Ragnar sighed, "Always talking back… always knowing everything better. So, how do you like my new haircut?"

Sansa smiled gravely, "I could get used to it. Not that I have much choice."

New haircuts were a rather common phenomenon right now in Kattegat. Ragnar's short hair happened by accident, but it had only been a week, since Bjorn had shaved the sides of his head, leaving hair only on the top portion of his head, resembling the style his father wore.

Thorunn had let her hair grow a little longer, it now hung well past her shoulders. Additionally, she had shaved the right side of her head.

Sansa herself had taken over Lagertha's style, as she had before, the style many shield maidens preferred for it kept the hair out of their face during battle.

Ragnar returned to his bedroom, where Aslaug was already waiting on him. She was taking care of Ivar, her son who had no use of his legs.

* * *

With Sansa unable to participate in their sparring, Bjorn and Thorrunn held their sessions in front of Sansa, who could often suggest alternatives to the techniques they were just trying. When she got to bored, Sansa had taken her battlejacket with her and occasionally reinforced the stitches that held the hardened sheets of leather together.

Wrapped in a blanket, Sansa sat on a rock on the beach, watching Bjorn and Thorunn train with each other. It was obvious that the former slave was getting better with every session, surely she would be ready in time for the raids.

Sansa stretched herself and her glance met the clouds up in the sky. For winter, this was an unusual clear day, only a slight overcast could be seen. It's funny, she thought, the one cloud up there looks like a dragon.

"Bjorn, does that cloud not exactly look like a dragon?" she asked her brother who was just drinking from a cup of ale, taking a break in the fight. Both Bjorn and Thorunn looked up into the sky.

"Call me mad", Thorunn began, "But I think that is a real dragon."

"I believe you're right", Bjorn agreed with his lover.

"Well, how many can say they have once seen a real dragon?" Sansa grinned broadly.

* * *

Cries filled the room as Sansa was giving birth. Although according to her own calculation, it was about three weeks early, somehow the baby had not received the message. It wanted out _now._ Aslaug was kneeling beside her, as were several other women.

"Now push", Aslaug encouraged her, "You can do it!"

Sansa gritted her teeth and let out a moan of pain as she pushed.

"The head is half out", Aslaug told her, "Keep pushing."

Sansa cried out and pushed the baby out of her body. The baby's cries filled the room, before one of the servants handed Aslaug a blanket.

"It's a girl", Aslaug smiled. She handed Sansa the newborn and Sansa smiled down on her child for a while, rocking the infant gently in her arms. Her hair was wet and barely existent yet.

* * *

After a few minutes, Sansa looked up.

"Aslaug, isn't it supposed to stop hurting after a little while?" she asked, just as another contraction made her body jerk. Sansa dropped her daughter as the pain flamed up in her body, and luckily Aslaug was just able to catch her before she hit the floor.

"You're having twins", Aslaug smiled.

"Oh gods, I can't do this another time!" Sansa yelled.

"You have to", one of the midwives told her, "You can and you will."

For a while the only things to be heard were Sansa's cries and the encouragements of the women, before a second baby's cries filled the room.

"It's a girl", Aslaug smiled, "Two girls as beautiful as their mother."

* * *

Thorunn ran up to Bjorn and Ragnar who had been sparring on the beach. They both looked at her as she approached.

"What is it?" Ragnar asked.

"Sansa has given birth", Thorunn stammered, "Twin girls."

Ragnar looked as if he wasn't quite believing her.

"So I have my first grandchildren", he smiled.

"Let's go see them", Bjorn urged, before he and Ragnar walked towards the great hall.

* * *

Sansa was grinning broadly as she held the two babies in her arms. Her forehead was still covered in sweat, but she looked happy nevertheless.

"Father!" she called as Ragnar entered the room, "You have two newborn granddaughters!"

Ragnar smiled down at her, while Bjorn stepped beside him.

"What are their names?" Bjorn wanted to know. Sansa frowned for a moment, then grinned.

"I will call them after the sisters I had in both families", she declared, "That one is Arya and the other one is Gyda."

"I like it", Bjorn agreed.

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 _A/N: Well, as it turns out, this was kind of a filler chapter, but we'll head right into Season 3 of Vikings with the next one!  
_

 _I hope you liked it..._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	23. Mercenary

_A/N: Vikings Season 3!_

 ** _Thank you for your reviews! As well as all those who follow or favorited this story!  
_**

 _Winter in Kattegat and the return to Wessex...  
_

 _ **Warning:** **Graphical violence ahead!** As usual... **  
**_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of Thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 **Chapter 23 Mercenary**

Ragnar and Bjorn were sitting on their small fire, up in the mountains. The rocks around them were still snow-clad, and they both wore thick cloaks.

"When the ice finally breaks, we will go back to Wessex", Ragnar told his son, "We will claim the land, King Egbert promised us."

"I feel my blood warming", Bjorn told Ragnar, "I want to fight and raid."

The younger man stood up and walked towards the edge of the cliff. Ragnar looked at him.

"Why do you want to fight?" Ragnar queried, "What are you fighting for?"

Bjorn made a wide arc with his arms, where the town of Kattegat could be seen in the far distance. "That", he said.

"What do you see?" Ragnar asked. Bjorn took a moment, to consider his answer.

"Power", he finally said, "The power of a king."

"Power is always dangerous", Ragnar warned him, "It attracts the worst and it corrupts the best ones. I never wanted power, nor did I ask for it. Power is only given to you, if you're prepared to lower yourself and pick it."

* * *

In the great hall of Hedeby, Lagertha was talking to one of her advisors.

"Will you come with me to Wessex, Kalf?" she asked. Kalf looked at her then shook his head.

"Why not?" Lagertha wanted to know, "Don't you want to win renown?"

"Of course I do", Kalf answered, "But someone has to remain here and look after all your territories and your interests. I hope that you trust me to do this."

"This last year you have earned my trust", Lagertha smiled, before changing the topic, "I have received another offer of marriage."

"By whom?" Kalf wanted to know.

"Egill Sveinsson has proposed himself to me", Lagertha said, taking a sip from her cup.

"You could do worse", Kalf grinned, "He has a good turf-cutting business."

"At least I'd be warm in winter", Lagertha agreed, "Why did you never ask me to marry you? You've become almost indispensable to me…"

"I have nothing to offer you but a capable head", Kalf told her.

"Let me be the judge of those two facts", Lagertha smiled.

"People would have thought I married you out of ambition", Kalf reminded her, "That would have done neither of us any good."

Lagertha nodded. This was not the time to talk about any of her feelings.

"Tell me about Einar", she urged.

"Einar still hates you", Kalf informed her, "He still tries to persuade members of his family to rise up and restore the old dynasty."

"What should I do about that?" Lagertha asked.

* * *

Kattegat was covered with ice and snow as well. Thorunn was sitting on one of the ships, tied to the pier. Bjorn walked up to her and jumped aboard.

"I was thinking how it would be on board of one of these ships, sailing across the sea to England", Thorunn said dreamily.

"We haven't talked about it yet", Bjorn reminded her, "I am not sure I want you to come."

"I am ready", Thorunn told him, "I've had many hours of training. Even Lagertha and Sansa have helped me."

"And my sister just found her strength again, after she was badly wounded", Bjorn reminded, "What if you are with child already? If I lost you, I would also lose my child."

"I'm coming to England", Thorunn said, glaring at him, "You cannot stop me."

* * *

Sansa had just put little Arya down into her crib and smiled at the twins. For a change, both of them were asleep. Realizing her opportunity, Sansa fell onto her bed, her eyes closed for a short nap.

Ragnar was playing with his sons. He was holding a long stick over his shoulders, on the ends, Ubba and Hvitserk were holding onto it. Alternating, he held them over the campfire for short moments.

"Oh, you need to cook, you little piggies", Ragnar sang, "I need you for dinner!"

He placed them on the ground again and the two boys ran away into the hall. Ragnar chased after them, still holding the stick. Intentionally, he tried to run through the door, and the stick got caught in the frame. The boys laughed.

"What are you laughing at?" Ragnar asked them in mock anger. He dropped the stick and began to chase them through the hall.

The boys became quiet, when Aslaug entered the room, holding Ivar in her arms.

"Please don't stop playing on our account", she said.

"We're done", Ragnar told her.

"Ivar is what he is", Aslaug reminded him, "You know that."

* * *

Floki was lying on a plank on his scaffolding, where the new ship was built. He watched Angroboda, his little daughter, taking small steps through the sand. Helga walked over to him.

"We're such a happy family", Floki stated.

Recognizing his tone, Helga challenged him. "What is wrong with that?" she asked.

"Families are not happy", Floki declared, "Name me one happy family."

"Ragnar's ", Helga said without hesitation. Floki let out a giggle.

"Which one?" he wanted to know, "I feel... trapped in all this happiness."

"We don't want to trap you", Helge told her husband, "If you want to leave, you should leave."

"Why do you understand it, Helga?" Floki asked in consternation, "It doesn't help. Why are you not angry with me?"

"I am angry with you, Floki", Helga yelled, "But it does not help either. Perhaps you will see sense when you return from Wessex."

* * *

Sansa was nursing Gyda, when Bjorn entered the room.

"They're getting so big already", he told his sister.

"I know", Sansa smiled, "I still can't believe it."

Sansa smiled down at her daughter in silence. Bjorn was right, she thought. The twins were only a month old, but they were growing fast. To their mother's relief, both girls had begun to sleep more regular by now.

"Was there something?" Sansa asked, noticing that Bjorn was still sitting next to her.

"I was just thinking, how lucky you are", Bjorn reflected, "And I wanted to know whether you made up your mind to come to Wessex coming spring?"

"I will be going", Sansa said decisively, "They'll be more than two months old, by the time we leave. They will be well cared for with Aslaug."

Bjorn nodded silently.

"I guess you're right", he said, "After all, you know best."

* * *

Ragnar walked towards the bedroom. Ivar's cries could be heard all over the hall.

"What is the matter with him?" he asked.

"How would I know?" Aslaug replied, "You see how he suffers, and I cannot make it better! Do you even care?"

"Of course I care", Ragnar told her.

"Do you love him?" Aslaug wanted to know.

"Yes, I do love him", Ragnar sighed.

"And do you love me?" Aslaug asked with tears in her eyes.

* * *

As they watched Lagertha ride away to Kattegat, Einar turned to Kalf.

"She's gone", Einar said, "Now we can talk."

"Talk of what, Einar? Of betrayal and murder?" Kalf asked, "Not with me."

Kalf nodded to the guards who surrounded Einar.

* * *

The day of the departure had finally come. Dozens of ships were assembled in the vicinity of Kattegat, some tied to the pier, others beached. Most were anchored a little off the shoreline. Rafts were being staked in between them, and supplies, weapons and what else was needed was being loaded onto the ships.

Floki walked along the pier and hopped into one of the ships on the pier.

"Rollo, I am so happy we're leaving", he exclaimed, "You can't imagine."

"Believe me, Floki, I understand exactly how you're feeling", Rollo answered bitterly, looking back towards Siggy. Thorstein had another problem. As he looked over the pier, he saw two pregnant women stand there. They had both claimed he was the father.

"What did I tell you, Thorstein?" Floki laughed at his friend's dilemma, "Always keep that axe in your pants if you want to avoid troubles."

"Well some of us have to bring our troubles with us", Bjorn added, watching Thorunn stow her gear in another ship.

* * *

Aslaug watched with anger as Ragnar was preparing himself to board. He was facing out to the sea, joking with Lagertha who stood next to him. She was interrupted by Sansa.

"Don't worry, I'll keep him in line", Sansa smiled. She was already wearing her battle jacket and had her packed gear in her hand.

"Goodbye, my dear", Aslaug said, embracing Sansa, "Don't worry about them, they'll be safe with me. I hope the gods will grant you a safe passage."

Sansa smiled, then picked up her sword and walked towards the ships.

* * *

As Bjorn walked next to Lagertha's ship, she stopped him. Lagertha nodded towards Thorunn, who had boarded the adjoining ship.

"She wanted to come with us?" Lagertha asked.

"I could not stop her", Bjorn sighed, "She reminds me of someone else I know."

Lagertha smiled to her son, knowing fully well, that he was talking about her.

Soon, the ships were rowed away from the pier and out of the fjord. They oars were pulled in and strong winds let the sails and the banners fly. The red banner with the black chevron, flown by Ragnar's ships, the Yggdrasil symbol on the ships of Hedeby. The ships where Ragnar and Lagertha were sailing on had their own banners, a black raven for Ragnar and the serpent Yormungandr for Lagertha.

* * *

In the morning twilight, Kalf was rowing a small boat out into the fjord. Einar was sitting in the boat with him. Finally, they reached the middle of the fjord, where the water was deepest.

"Time to die, Einar", Kalf stated.

"I want to die with an axe in my hand", Einar said, "Just as if I died in battle."

"You're joking", Kalf replied.

"Why would a man about to die, joke about something like this?" Einar asked, "Are you going to give me the axe or not?"

Kalf thought for a moment, then handed Einar the axe.

"Your gift was foolish", Einar smiled.

"I don't think you'll use it against me", Kalf replied calmly, "If you kill an unarmed man, you really are the coward Lagertha thinks you are. And would you really kill your own Earl?"

"My Earl?" Einar asked in surprise.

"Persuade your family to support me as Earl", Kalf suggested, "And together we will get rid of the woman who usurped your uncle."

* * *

The Viking party reached the Saxon town. Horns and pipes were sounding as they entered through the gate. King Egbert, his son and Princess Kwentrith were awaiting them at the corner of the place.

"Welcome!" King Egbert greeted them, "Earl Ragnar."

"He is king now", Athelstan added from the back of the group, "King Ragnar Lothbrok."

"What happened to King Horik?" Egbert asked.

"He met with…" Ragnar began.

"An unfortunate accident", Sansa added quickly.

"Then we are truly equal now, Ragnar", Egbert told him, "Let's get inside."

* * *

They were sitting on a table, feasting in the royal villa.

"It is my pleasure and honor to feed you all", Egbert declared.

"What happened to our warriors, who joined the fight for Mercia?" Ragnar asked in between two bites. Kwentrith hesitated for a moment, before she answered.

"Unfortunately, the forces of my uncle and younger brother have prevailed", she told them, "But If you, Ragnar, would join forces with me, I am sure of victory."

"That is not part on our original agreement", Ragnar reminded her.

Egbert looked down at his plate for a second, then began to speak again, "To tell you the truth, I have given you land, as I promised. But some of my nobles disagree with my decision. If you'd agree to fight with us for Mercia, they may be more favorable to this treaty."

"Very well", Ragnar sighed, "In good faith, I will fight. But I cannot speak for the others."

"I will go", Athelwulf spoke up, "I will fight alongside these _pagans_. For Mercia."

"What did you say, brother?" Rollo asked, as he still did not speak the Saxon language.

"I have agreed to fight", Ragnar told him.

"If my brother goes, so will I", he declared.

"I am coming with you, father", Sansa said.

"Are you certain?" he questioned, "You don't have to."

"I am coming", Sansa insisted.

"Bjorn?" Ragnar inquired.

"When the spring comes and my blood heats", he said, "I want nothing more than to raid and fight."

"I will come, too", Thorunn immediately added.

"Between the plough and the axe, I will always choose the axe", Thorstein told Ragnar.

"Mercia is not our quarrel", Floki argued.

"It is part of something bigger", Ragnar reminded him, "Are you coming or not?"

"I will come", Floki agreed, "The flies follow the dead meat."

At the other end of the table, Athelstan had leaned over to Egbert.

"All have agreed, except Lagertha", he whispered.

"In order to establish the settlement, I will need the help of one of your leaders", Egbert told them, "Someone, my nobles will respect."

"I will stay and help you", Lagertha told him, "I will help farm the land."

"And you Athelstan", Egbert said, "You must also stay, for you can speak for both sides."

* * *

The next day, the parties were separating. Those who would fight in Mercia readied their weapons, the others loaded their tools and supplies onto wagons, and prepared for the settlement.

Bjorn had already said his goodbyes to his mother, when he walked over to Thorunn.

"You don't have to do this", he told her, "You could go with Lagertha and the other settlers. I love you – and I think you are already with child."

Thorunn just smiled shyly at him and placed his hand over her belly.

* * *

Athelstan was loading farming tools on a cart, when Princess Judith, Athelwulf's wife walked up to him.

"I wish you well", she said, "My prayers go with you and your people."

"Thank you, my lady Judith" Athelstan answered politely.

"May I touch your hand?" Judith asked, "If I remember correctly, you were crucified and bear the stigma of true Christ."

"It's not true", Athelstan objected. Judith took his hand and her eyes widened as she saw the scars.

"It is true", she whispered to herself, before she kissed the monk's hands.

* * *

Lagertha and Athelstan were about to start moving their wagon, when Egbert walked up to them.

"Wait!" he called, before he climbed up to them.

"Why is he coming with us?" Lagertha asked, "He's a king, he doesn't need to come."

Athelstan translated swiftly, and Egbert just looked at them.

"Yes I am a King", he agreed, "So what?"

Ragnar, Rollo and the others mounted their horses, which would bring them back to the ships. Ragnar had decided to use the ships, sailing up the rivers and into Mercia. He had invited Kwentrith to sail with him on his ship.

* * *

"Tell me about your uncle", Ragnar commanded.

"His name is Brihtwulf", Kwentrith answered, "Although he calls himself King Brihtwulf now. He has no right to do so – he has usurped my crown."

"And your younger brother?" Ragnar wanted to know.

"My brother's name is Burghred", she answered, "We were always close. My uncle poisoned his mind or used some magic against him."

"Magic?!" Ragnar doubted.

"Has no one ever used magic against you, Ragnar Lothbrok?" Kwentrith smiled.

"I have been deceived many times", Ragnar admitted, "But magic was never the reason."

* * *

They had set up a camp on the hills beside the river. Some of the English soldiers, who had come with them had been sent out as scouts, the rest of the army was staying in the camp.

Kwentrith was dancing wildly underneath the trees to the music of several pipers, they had brought with them. Many of the men watched in fascination, as the beautiful princess whirled around on the grass.

"Oh, If I could have her", Thorstein said dreamily, "We'd be married and have lots of children and be true to each other."

"No man should ever trust such a woman's words", Rollo objected, "I once loved a woman, I kept sitting in the weeds, hoping for her to return my love…"

"And what did you get from sitting in the weeds?" Ragnar asked, half asleep, "But a wet arse?"

"I say, let no man mock, what touches many men", Floki warned, "Lucky are the fools like you, Thorstein, who remain unbound and free."

* * *

A little away, Athelwulf and the other Saxon nobles were sitting. Bishop Edmund was polishing his sword, Athelwulf was just crouching down next to him.

"Whatever my father says, I cannot bring myself to trust these pagans", the prince told the bishop, "Their way of life is crude... barbaric"

"They have not been enlightened by our holy lord Jesus Christ", the bishop told him, "They are like the animals of the forest, and we can't blame them because they haven't been given the opportunity yet, to recognize our lord."

"So you think us barbarians, Prince Athelwulf?" a voice behind them said. Startled, they both turned around and saw Sansa stand behind them.

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to…" Athelwulf stammered.

"You didn't mean to insult me", Sansa smiled as she knelt down next to them, "But yet you did with the full knowledge of what you were doing. What do you think, my father would do, had he heard you?"

Athelwulf had the sense to blush. Sansa finally showed a small smile.

"I am sorry, princess", Athelwulf said, "I didn't mean to offend you, please accept my apologies."

"I understand you, unknown things are often strange to us", Sansa answered, "But that doesn't mean, that others can't be good people."

As Sansa stood up and walked away, Athelwulf looked after her.

"One day, there must be a reckoning", he said, "There is no way, there is both one god and several gods. One of us must be wrong."

"I am the light and the hope, your Lord Jesus says", Bishop Edmund reminded him.

* * *

A rider came galloping into the camp. Quickly the leaders assembled around him. Kwentrith quickly spoke with the rider.

"He says, the armies of my uncle and my brother are already assembled upriver", she told the others, "They're waiting for us."

The camp was quickly broken down and the ships were underway again. The warriors were sharpening their weapons and kept a lookout into the woods, searching for any sign of the Mercian armies.

Several arrows flew through the air, some of the men were hit. They fell overboard or died between their friends. The arrows made no difference between Saxons and Northmen, they were all hit alike.

The Vikings quickly grabbed their shields and held them up, forming a roof of shields above their heads, protecting the men aboard.

Ragnar was just able to raise his shield in front of them both, as an arrow penetrated and stopped only inches of Kwentrith's head.

"Was that your god or mine?" he asked smiling.

As the hail of arrows from all sides had ceased, the Vikings let down their shields again. Most of the shields were hit by at least one arrow, most by more. They quickly broke the arrows off, readying their shields again.

Ragnar looked up and saw an army assembled at the riverbank.

"Whose army is that?" he asked.

"My uncle's", Kwentrith informed him.

"And those?" Ragnar asked, pointing to the other bank.

"My brother Burghred", Kwentrith sighed.

"That is a considerable force, father", Bjorn told him.

"You ought to change your mind, brother", Rollo added, "Now's the time."

* * *

The carts stopped on a small hill. They all dismounted from their carts and stood there, enjoying the landscape. It was a sloping ground, and contained woods and acres.

"This land is yours", King Egbert said, "From here to the horizon. I hope we can live in peace now, for that is our future."

* * *

Ragnar was looking at the two armies, then he made up a plan.

"The army on the right bank is much smaller than on the left", he told the others, "And as far as I can see, there is no bridge. No way, the two armies can easily rejoin. Sound the horn!"

Rollo made the big horn sound loud over the river. "Hard steerboard!" he ordered.

"We are attacking your uncle", Ragnar told Kwentrith, who was excited.

"But stay out of our way", Sansa reminded her, as she picked up her shield and pulled out one of the arrows.

The ships turned towards the right bank, facing the forces of King Brihtwulf. They spread out, so they could all reach the beach, and the men swiftly rowed the ships closer.

The forces of Kwentrith's brother Burghred shot their arrows as far as they could, but the arrows fell into the water, well behind the ships, posing no danger at all.

In King Brihtwulf's army, the archers prepared themselves as well. They loosened a hail of arrows on the attacking ships, but the Northmen had raised their shields again, protecting them.

As the ships drifted on the banks, the Vikings jumped ashore. The Mercian soldiers charged at them and a heavy melee began right at the waterline.

Bjorn was wielding his axe, cutting down his opponents while defending himself with his shield. Thorunn was following him, her shield in one hand and a sword in her other. She was yelling fiercely as she cut through her opponent's chest.

Rollo was wielding his big, two-handed axe savagely. He let it smash down on the English, killing them almost instantly. Suddenly he found himself next to Athelwulf. He swung his axe and recognized him just in the last moment. For a second he forgot about the battle, he only wanted to kill the man who had ridden him down, then the moment had passed and he pushed the Saxon prince back.

Ragnar was holding his sword in his right hand, and had exchanged his shield with a short axe. He swung his axe, deflecting a spear thrust and wielded his sword, cutting into his attacker's chest. He whirled around and dug his axe into another Mercian's leg, bringing him down.

Sansa had left her axe on her belt and chosen to fight with her sword this time. She was still holding on to her shield. Once she had waded out of the water, she saw a Mercian soldier attacking her. She caught the blade with her shield, before she cut through the Englishmen's throat. Another one thrust his spear at her chest. Sansa parried with her sword, then spun around, hitting the English soldier with her shield. As he went down, Sansa stabbed him in the side.

Ragnar stabbed his sword through a Mercian's throat, and Bjorn watched as Thorunn was barely able to avoid a hit by a Mercian soldier. Thorstein had just cut down two Mercian's who had attacked him simultaneously, when he was hit in the arm by an arrow. He broke off the tail, determined to remove the tip later. A Mercian spearman ran him over and Thorstein was barely able to avoid the impalement on the spear, as he fell to the ground. Floki came up behind the Mercian and cut his throat with his sword.

By now, most of the Mercian army had been killed. The Vikings were closing in to King Brihtwulf and his guard. Ragnar avoided a spear and slashed at the Mercian's head, Sansa caught a blade with her sword, before delivering a bone cracking punch with her shield. Rollo swung his axe at one of the mounted guards, severing two of the horse's legs and bringing down the rider.

Floki finally grabbed King Brihtwulf by his leg. He pulled and the King flew from his saddle. He landed on the ground at Floki's feet. The blood spurted into the boatbuilder's face, as he buried his hatchet in the King's skull.

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 _A/N: Most of you have probably noticed that I changed the hand-kissing scene between Judith and Athelstan. It always bugged me that Judith didn't remember Athelstan from his previous days on the court of Wessex. He was definitely standing next to her when Kwentrith arrived for the first time, and it is highly likely that the knowledge of his crucificton was widespread in court.  
_

 _Don't forget to review!_


	24. The Wanderer

_A/N: Vikings Season 3!_

 ** _Thank you for your reviews! As well as all those who follow or favorited this story!  
_**

 _Vikings aid in the conquest of Mercia...  
_

 _ **Warning:** **Graphical violence ahead!** As usual... **  
**_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of Thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

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 **Chapter 24 The Wanderer**

The water in the river was red of blood, swashing gently onto the bank. The army of the Mercian prince Burghred watched in fear and shock, as their companions on the other side of the river were slaughtered by the forces of the Northmen and Wessex.

Smoke was filling the air, as the battle was won. The Vikings set up a camp, some guarding the prisoners, others burying the dead or taking care of the wounded.

One of those wounded was Thorstein, Ragnar's old friend. He had taken an arrow into his left upper arm. Once the battle was over, they carefully removed the tip, cleaned and bandaged the wound. Now Thorstein was sitting idly on a log.

"You haven't eaten yet", Ragnar said as he and Rollo walked up to their old friend.

"I'm not hungry", Thorstein replied.

"For the first time in your life", Ragnar stated.

"There's a first time for everything", Thorstein told him.

Rollo handed him a bowl of mushrooms. "Here", he said, "These will help."

* * *

Sansa was sitting next to the campfire when Kwentrith walked up to her.

"I'm so glad, that my uncle is dead", she muttered, "but I still can't believe it."

"You witnessed his death", Sansa insisted, "You saw him killed."

"Yes, but now I want his head", Kwentrith urged her, "I need the head."

"Floki, is the king buried yet?" Sansa asked the passing boat builder.

"No", Floki told her.

"Get her his head", Sansa ordered.

"I will", Floki smiled.

"Why do you hate your uncle so much?" Sansa wanted to know.

"My older brother was not the only one who raped me when I was a child", Kwentrith recalled, "It was my uncle who brought him first to me. Since I was six years old, he violated my body and my soul. He told me not to resist the many men, he brought to me, they all wanted the pleasure of sleeping with a child. And finally, my brother…"

Sansa stood silently, trying to imagine the horrors, the princess had endured in her childhood. Kwentrith broke off, when Floki walked back to them, in his hands the head of King Brihtwulf, the rapist. He had a large wound on top of his skull, where Floki's hatchet had buried itself during the battle.

As Sansa saw Floki approach, she quickly turned around and walked off. It seemed an eternity ago, but she still didn't like seeing the cut off heads. A sick feeling was in her stomach. He _deserved_ this, Sansa told herself. It was not like her father, this man was not innocent, he was an enemy, killed in battle. Why did it bother her so much, to see the head cut off his _dead_ body?

* * *

Thorunn was sitting on a barrel, drinking a cup of Ale, joking with other shield maidens, when Bjorn walked up to her. He took her by her hand and guided her a little away.

"It was good today", Thorunn enthused, "I enjoyed fighting."

"So I noticed", Bjorn smiled, "I watched you – you fought well. But you jumped into battle, taking too many risks. Don't do that, Thorunn, you still have much to learn."

"Do you suddenly no more believe in fate?" she asked, taken aback, "In no gods? Is this really Bjorn _Ironside_ , son of Ragnar, or just some imposter, who looks like him?"

"Marry me", Bjorn said suddenly.

"What?!" Thorunn asked.

"I ask you to marry me", Bjorn repeated, "What is your answer?"

For a second, Thorunn was speechless, then a smile formed on her lips.

"Yes, I will marry you", she said.

* * *

Lagertha was sitting next to the King in the woods, where they would build their farms. She was washing her hands, and Athelstan was sitting between them.

"Athelstan, please ask the king, who used to farm these lands", Lagertha told him. Athelstan quickly translated, then Egbert answered.

"He admits that he had to remove several Saxon farmers from their lands", Athelstan translated.

"Will they not be hostile?" Lagertha queried.

"The king will personally take care of the safety of this settlement", Athelstan translated Egbert's response.

"Thank the king", Lagertha said, "It was always Ragnar's dream to find land, where we can farm and live in peace. Now it is my dream also."

Egbert nodded, then asked Athelstan something, Lagertha could not understand, only the name Ragnar could be heard several times.

"He asks if you are a _free_ woman", Athelstan finally said.

* * *

The morning mists covered the river, as the Vikings crossed. They had taken the heads of the corpses and tied them to wooden frames at the bow of their ships.

Sansa had placed herself in the back of the ship. She tried not to look to the bow, where Ragnar had climbed up to the dragon's head, sitting between a dozen heads. With the torches on the sides, they surely looked frightening.

Sansa was glad that she hadn't eaten breakfast this morning. Although her stomach was angry, she would probably not have been able to keep her meal down. And _that_ would have been really embarrassing for a shield maiden who was the king's daughter.

Horns and trumpets were sounding in the Mercian camp, as they neared the bank of the river. Kwentrith walked up to the bow and called out for her brother.

"Burghred, sweet brother!" she called, "Stay yourself! Abandon your false advisors and I will see that you come to no harm!"

* * *

The farmers finally reached their destination. They stopped their carts in the middle of several acres.

"King Egbert has arranged for some of the laborers who worked here to help farm the land", Athelstan told Lagertha. They climbed down and the workers came around the wagons, beginning to unload the tools.

"What are they saying?" Lagertha asked the former monk.

"They're saying, their grandfathers used some of these tools", Athelstan whispered.

King Egbert had strolled off a little. He dug his hands deep into the earth, breaking a big cloth out and handed it to Lagertha.

"Here is my gift to you", he said in broken Norse.

"Thank you. It is worth to me more than a necklace of precious stones", Lagertha told him with a smile.

* * *

In Kattegat, Aslaug Helga and Siggy were walking together through the town. Aslaug was carrying Ivar and Siggy and Helga had taken the twin girls Arya and Gyda in their arms. Angrboda, Helga's daughter was playing with Sigurd, while their mothers watched.

"I have had a strange dream last night", Helga began, "There was a stranger walking to me. He was walking through the snow, his footsteps made no sound. His arms were outstretched. In his one hand, he carried a ball of flaming snow."

"And his other hand was covered in red blood", Aslaug added.

"And the blood left fuming drips in the snow", Siggy told them.

"You too?" Helga asked.

"We have all dreamt the same dream", Aslaug stated.

* * *

Rollo, Floki and Bjorn were cutting down the heads that had been tied to the ship's bows. As intended, they had found the Mercian camp by the riverside deserted, now scouts were sent out to find them.

Sansa watched as their knives cut through hair and string. With each cut, another head fell to the ground.

"Do you mind giving us a hand, sweet sister?" Bjorn asked annoyed.

"I can't", Sansa stammered.

"Sansa, you are a shield maiden", Rollo reminded her, "You have killed dozens of times, maybe hundreds – does blood frighten you suddenly?"

"No, but heads", Sansa said ruefully, "They remind me of my old father."

"We all know, that your father was beheaded", Bjorn said gently, "But these are not your father's. These are only the heads of the men, who were killed in battle. Come!"

Bjorn guided Sansa towards the frame, where the heads hung. Bjorn wiped his hand on one of them, pulled it away, smeared with blood. He stroked Sansa's hair back, leaving a bloody trail on her braids.

"Sansa Bloody-hair", he said, "these are not those you need to fear. The blood of your enemies will protect you from any harm. Keep your old father in good memory, and don't pity those…"

Bjorn took her knife from her belt and placed it in her hand. As if she was guided by another will, Sansa found her hand creeping forward, finally cutting through the string holding the head by its hair.

It made a loud splash as the head fell into the river. Sansa blinked. She could do, it, she could touch them, without disgust. She began to cut through the next string, and Bjorn smiled next to her.

* * *

On the riverside, Ragnar and Athelwulf rode up to Kwentrith on captured Mercian horses.

"Where would he go?" Ragnar asked the princess.

"Ragnar, my brother is a prisoner of his advisors", Kwentrith told him.

"Then where would they take him?" Ragnar asked impatiently.

"To the town", Kwentrith answered, "To get reinforcements."

"That is not good", Ragnar sighed, before he turned to Athelwulf, "Find them."

Athelwulf turned around, then rode over to the other members of the scouting party.

* * *

Lagertha and Athelstan had followed King Egbert back to his villa. They had washed and slept, now they were sitting with Princess Judith and King Egbert at the table. They both wore fine clothes, Lagertha had picked a beautiful dark red dress, and Athelstan had taken a simpler clean tunic.

"Have we any news of our army yet?" Judith asked.

"Not yet", Egbert declined, "But with Ragnar Lothbrok leading them, how can we fail?"

"Ever since I saw Ragnar Lothbrok and his companions in my father's villa, I was fascinated by these northmen", Judith admitted, "You were a monk at Lindisfarne, Athelstan, yet you lived amongst them. What was it like?"

"Lady Judith, you are a good Christian woman", Athelstan replied, "How can I describe such things to you?"

She smiled at him and bit seductively at a grape. "Try me", she said.

"Imagine, that the sun rose in the West, and shone at night, and the moon during the day", he began, "That everything, you knew about Jesus Christ was wrong, and the real god is a living man, tens of thousands years old, with one eye, a cloak, a raven on his shoulder and a long spear. This man, Odin, the allfather, was hanged from a tree and died, yet he was also reborn. And it all happened a long time before Christ."

"Athelstan, what are you saying about Odin?" Lagertha asked.

"I love Odin", Athelstan told her, "And I love Christ – what can I say more?"

"I have another gift for you, Lagertha", Egbert changed the topic, "Stones are so much easier to wear than earth."

He handed her a small wooden box, revealing a necklace of finely hammered metal, holding three large Turquoises. Lagertha smiled over the gift, while Egbert stood up and walked behind her.

"May I?" he asked. He took the necklace and carefully placed it around Lagertha's neck, fastening it on the back. Judith looked at her and nodded in appreciation and Lagertha shyly smiled in return.

* * *

The next day, Athelstan was walking through the villa, remembering the weeks and months he spent here. He turned around, when Judith approached him.

"I had hoped you'd hear my confession", the princess told him, "Bishop Edmund, my confessor is gone with the army and I must confess or live in purgatory."

Reluctantly Athelstan guided her towards the chapel. They entered the confessional box, each on one side.

"Forgive me, father, for I have sinned", Judith began.

"In what ways have you sinned, my child?" Athelstan asked her.

"I have sinned in thought", Judith explained, "But not in deed."

"Then your sins might not be so great", Athelstan calmed her.

"They're still great", Judith insisted, "I have dreamt of lying naked with a man, who was not my husband. We made love and I enjoyed it very much."

"Who is this man?" Athelstan wanted to know. Judith smiled to herself for a brief moment.

"It was you, Athelstan", she said, leaving the chapel.

* * *

Sansa was sitting sadly on the grass, when someone sat down next to her. Sansa looked up and recognized Bishop Edmund, who had been accompanying the allied army.

"You seem troubled my dear", the bishop said, "I was wondering if you were not happy that we won against the Mercians."

"It isn't over yet", Sansa reminded him, "But that is not what troubles me…"

"If you were to tell me, I might be able to offer you some redemption", the Bishop offered.

"I thank you for the offer", Sansa smiled, "But it's not necessary. I just find myself missing my children."

"I am sure it is hard for any mother to leave her children", Edmund smiled, "Tell me about them."

"They're twins", Sansa mused, "Two girls."

"How old?" the bishop wanted to know. He was genuinely interested, Sansa realized.

"Very little", Sansa reflected, "They were born last winter. By the time I return, they might be walking already."

* * *

In Hedeby, Einar and Kalf were sharing a meal.

"I had a dream last night", Kalf said, "In my dream, Ragnar Lothbrok tore the liver from my body and began to eat it. I begged him to stop, but he just smiled and kept on eating, with blood streaming down his chin."

"What did it mean?" Einar inquired, "Are you afraid of Ragnar Lothbrok?"

"What sensible man would not be afraid of a farmer who became King?" Kalf smiled, "I want to be famous, like Ragnar. I want the poets to sing of my exploits, as they sing of Ragnar's. I want the gods to notice me and prepare their halls for my coming."

"They say, Ragnar is descendant from Odin", Einar reminded him.

"He is still human", Kalf objected, "If you cut him, he'll bleed."

* * *

In the Viking camp, Floki, Rollo, Bjorn and Thorunn were flipping coins into a bucket, Sansa and Ragnar watched.

"Hey you bastards!" Thorstein called out from a little away.

"As if you could have done better, Thorstein", Floki shot back.

"I don't care about the stupid game", Thorstein said, "I want you to cut off my arm."

"Why not keep it?" Rollo asked.

"Because it's killing me, stupid", Thorstein sighed, "It's no good to me anymore. In fact I've always hated this arm."

They looked at each other for a moment, then Bjorn drew his knife. "I'll do it", he said.

"Ah, Bjorn, always so considerate", Throstein thanked him, "But I want Floki to do it. I would do the same for you…"

"I know", Floki sighed, "That is why I shall do it."

They quickly prepared everything. Rollo placed several axes in the fire, heating the metal, until it was glowing orange. Sansa fetched a plank from the ships, so they would have an even ground. Bjorn began to cut Thorstein's sleeve open, revealing the festering wound. Floki checked his hatchet, making sure it would cut as he liked.

When they were ready, Throstein was placed on the plank with his shoulders. Ragnar was holding his good arm, Bjorn and Thorunn had each taken one leg.

"Are you sure you want to go ahead?" Floki asked for a last time.

"Not my head", Thorstein joked, "Just take the stinky arm."

Rollo handed Floki his big axe, glowing red from the heat. Floki placed it where he wanted to make the cut.

"Too bad it's not your flipping arm", he joked.

"You would like that", Thorstein smiled, "It'd save you a lot of money…"

Floki pressed the glowing blade against Thorstein's shoulder, using his hatchet to hammer the axehead through the joint. Thorstein screamed in agony, and fought back with his other arm so hard, that Sansa had to drop the heated axe she had prepared and helped her father steady Thorstein. Once Floki was through the flesh, he received another glowing axe from Rollo which he pressed against the stump, sealing it.

The smell of burnt flesh made them all turn their heads away, while Thorstein screamed at the top of his lungs. Then he lost consciousness.

When Floki was satisfied with the way the wound had been sealed, he prepared a paste of herbs which he applied strongly onto the cut.

* * *

It had been a few days, since the scouts were sent out from the Viking camp. Thorstein had awoken and still looked pale and sick, he even complained about pain in the arm that had been cut off. In the evening, Prince Athelwulf and his scouts returned.

"I know where they are", the prince declared.

"Where?" Kwentrith asked, eager.

"On top of that hill", Athelwulf told them, pointing to a hill in the far distance.

"They're drawing us away from our boats", Ragnar said.

* * *

Helga was in the market place, when she suddenly felt uneasy. She looked around, frightened. Then she saw a man, walking towards her. He was wearing a cloak and she could not see his face under the cloak.

The man came closer and held his arms out in front of him. Helga could see, that one hand was bleeding badly and had been bandaged.

"I have injured my hand rather badly", the stranger said, "I wonder, can you help me?"

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 _A/N: Alright guys, this is the next chapter. Although I really didn't like the Harbard storyline, I can't see any way around it, to where I'm going.  
_

 _I hope you liked it!_

 _Don't forget to review!_


	25. Warrior's Fate

_A/N: Vikings Season 3!_

 ** _Thank you for your reviews! As well as all those who follow or favorited this story!  
_**

 _Vikings aid in the conquest of Mercia...  
_

 _ **Warning:** **Graphical violence ahead!** As usual... **  
**_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of Thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

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 **Chapter 25 Warrior's fate**

Helga entered the great hall. The playing children became silent, as they laid eyes on the man following her. Aslaug and Siggy turned around, watching her.

"This stranger approached me in the marketplace", Helga told them, "He has cut his hand and asked for help."

"Of course. Siggy, will you fetch me some hot water?" Aslaug commanded, "Helga, give me some cloth for a bandage."

They both went out of the room, followed by the children. Aslaug and the stranger sat down at the fire, Aslaug taking a close look on the injured hand.

"How did you do that?" she asked.

"I don't know", the man shrugged, "I was sleeping rough, I might have cut it on a rock."

"And why is that?" Siggy asked, reentering the room.

"I'm a wanderer. Sometimes people offer me hospitality and I sleep in a straw bed, sometimes I sleep with the cattle or in the fields", he explained, "It is all the same to me."

"Really?" Siggy doubted.

"No, I prefer the straw", the man smiled.

"What is your name?" Aslaug wanted to know.

"My name is Harbard", he said.

* * *

The group of Saxon nobles rode slowly through the south-English countryside. They were led by King Egbert himself, on their way to the northern settlement.

"You are talking behind my back", Egbert said, as he heard several nobles whisper, "Please, do me the honor of talking to my face." He turned his horse around and faced them.

"We meant no disrespect, Sire", one of the nobles said, "But we wondered why you are prepared to share our farming secrets with the northmen, yet we don't ask them to share their boatbuilding secrets with us."

"And since we've given them land, we should ask them to convert to the only true god", another added.

"May I remind you that the northmen in the shape of Ragnar Lothbrok are fighting alongside our forces in Mercia?" Egbert asked, "Who of you would not turf a few farmers of our land, but gain through this alliance a larger portion of England itself. Tell me now, if you dare, that I am not thinking of our Kingdom and its people first. That I don't deserve to be King of Wessex."

* * *

Morning mist hung over the river, as the combined forces of the Northmen and Wessex assembled, prepared to climb the mountain.

"Why are we doing this, Ragnar", Floki muttered, "Doing King Egbert's dirty work for him?"

"This is about our people's future, about our children", Ragnar told him, in his count for the 219th time, "I don't want there to be endless conflict between us and the Christians."

"You're mad, Ragnar, diluted", Floki exclaimed, "The triumph of the Christ god will mean the death of all of ours."

"Both of you, save your breath", Rollo interrupted them, "We have a mountain to climb."

* * *

Bjorn and Thorunn, like many others painted their faces with pig's blood. They wanted to look frightening to the enemy.

Bjorn's hand rested for a long while on Thorunn's face. Sansa walked up to them, and bend down in between their heads.

"Are you done?" she asked. Bjorn nodded and stuck his axe into his Belt. As they both stood up, Sansa dipped her fingers in the bowl with the blood and smeared it onto the braids on her temples. She adjusted her weapon's belt for a final time, then took her shield and followed the others.

The procession of warriors passed where Thorstein was lying. The wounded warrior looked up and called out, "Hey you bastards, wait for me!"

"You cannot fight", Rollo told him, "You're still too weak."

Thorstein spat on the ground, angrily. He grabbed the tent pole with his hand and pulled himself up. He was slow, but finally, he was standing.

"As you can see, bastard", Thorstein smiled, "I am perfectly able to fight."

Rollo shrugged and took Thorstein's shield, before he extended an arm and helped the wounded warrior on his way.

As they marched off towards the Mercian army, Kwentrith intercepted Ragnar.

"Please, spare my brother", she urged him.

* * *

The nobleman rode up to the settlement, where Lagertha and the settlers awaited them.

"Good day, noble King", Lagertha greeted them in broken English.

"You speak our language now", Egbert was surprised.

"I speak more than before", Lagertha said.

"I am pleased and gratified", Egbert told her, "We all will profit of a good harvest, and I brought you something to help prepare it."

He turned around and guided her towards the cart. He flipped the plane back and revealed a plough.

"It's a new type of plough", Egbert explained, "It not only scratches the earth, but it digs deeper. And because of the angle of the blade, it turns the soil over. We made some experiments, and if manure is dug into the soil, the crop and the harvest both increase."

* * *

The army had reached the edge of the top of the mountain. They all ducked down, careful not to be seen. A little behind, Rollo walked up to them, supporting Thorstein.

Ragnar signaled to Bjorn, who silently crept forward, trying to see through the cloud.

"I can't see anyone", he finally whispered. In the mist, a horse snorted.

"They're up there", Sansa insisted. Ragnar began to move forward, when he was stopped by Thorstein.

"I will go first", the one-armed warrior said. Rollo handed him his shield and Thorstein stood up. He slowly staggered away into the mist. In front of him, he could see some Englishmen. They grabbed their bows and loosened a volley of arrows, which Thorstein caught with his shield. They shot again, this time, several arrows hit Thorstein. He broke down in the grass, as several Mercian warriors closed in on him.

"I come to you, Odin", Thorstein prayed, as he pulled an arrow out of his leg. As the Mercians were close enough, Thorstein stabbed the arrow into one of their chests. Another one pulled his sword, and drove it straight through Thorsteins body. He fell to the ground, dying.

Sansa felt her heart beat faster as they waited for Ragnar to give the signal to attack. Just as they could see Thorstein go down, they charged. Screaming at the top of their lungs, they ran forward, wielding their weapons. The Mercians loosened their arrows on the oncoming Northmen, but most were protecting themselves with their shields.

Ragnar was carrying his shield, as he approached them. He caught a Mercian's sword on the wood, the stabbed the man through the throat with his sword. He defended a blow from another opponent, then thrust his sword forward, missing the throat by a few inches. He pulled his sword back, cutting as he drew the blade along the skin.

Rollo wielded his two handed axe. Cutting down a Mercian soldier, he whirled around and shoved another one back with the handle of the axe.

Bjorn had lost his shield shortly after the attack. Now he was slashing around with his short axe. He deflected a blow aimed at his left chest, then turned the axehead a little and buried it deep in the Mercian soldier's face.

Sansa was wielding her sword, her axe still on her belt as a back-up. A Mercian tried to stab his sword into her face, she raised her shield and caught the blade. She let her sword swing downward, cutting in her opponent's thigh. He fell to the ground and Sansa finished him with a stab to the face. She turned around and saw an arrow shot at her. She just was able to raise the shield in time, the arrow stuck in the red painted wood.

Thorunn staggered back when a Mercian soldier slammed into her shield. She dropped the shield and tried to cut him with her sword. He had dropped his shield as well and defended himself from Thorunn with his own sword. He punched her in the face and as Thorunn was taken aback, he slashed through her face, shearing bone and cutting through her right eye. Thorunn fell to the ground and he tried to cut her head off, when Bjorn leaped forward tackling him to the ground. Bjorn grabbed a helmet,which was lying on the battlefield and punched the Mercian with it, smashing his skull.

A Mercian soldier charged at Sansa. She dropped her sword to the ground and in a swift movement, took the throwing axe from her belt. Without exact aim, she threw it at her attacker. The axe buried itself in the Mercian's shoulder, causing him to stumble to the ground and drop his sword. In a moment Sansa was over him, drawing her dagger from her belt and cutting the Mercian's throat. She shoved the dagger back into the scabbard and picked her axe up.

Ragnar led the assault further, over a little ridge on the battlefield. From behind the ridge, several spearmen charged at him. Ragnar blocked the first spear thrust with his shield, then cut into the man's throat.

The second spearman, a few meters away, quickly aimed and threw his spear. Ragnar tried to move out of the way, falling over to the side. The spear caught him in his belly, cutting through his battle jacket and through his skin.

Ragnar came back to his feet, just as Sansa caught up with him. He was bleeding from a cut on his belly. Luckily the spear had not cut deep. They cut down the spearmen on the ridge, then saw another Mercian army, waiting ready behind the ridge.

On the cliffs surrounding the fresh Mercian army, the Wessex archers appeared, led by Athelwulf. They loosened their arrows and several Mercians fell.

"Don't shoot the prince!" Ragnar ordered them.

The Mercian soldiers formed around the prince, protecting him with their shields. Many of them fell with an arrow in their head, until finally, the prince called out, "I surrender!" He dropped his sword to the ground.

"I will fight no more!" he called, "I beseech you to spare my life!"

* * *

Egbert was guiding his guests, Lagertha and Athelstan, through a dark hallway in his villa. Judith followed as well. They reached a big room with a basin of water in the middle.

"What is this?" Lagertha asked.

"It's a roman bath house", the King explained. Lagertha looked around and discovered the paintings on the walls.

"Who is this woman?" she asked, pointing at the old painting.

"She's a roman goddess", Egbert told her, "A pagan god, just like yours."

"She's not like my gods", Lagertha objected, "My gods are as real as you and me."

Egbert looked around for a while.

"So, who will join me?" he asked.

Once they were all seated in the hot water, he began to explain further.

"Most of what the romans built lies in ruins these days", he informed them, "But there is a city called Paris. It stands in the Kingdom of Francia. Many here trade with the franks and we still drink their wine."

He leaned over to Lagertha and kissed her, gently at first, then with a growing passion. Judith seemed uncomfortable for a moment, then left the room, followed by Athelstan.

"You don't have to be afraid", he told the princess, "Nothing happened."

"That's the point", Judith admitted, "I wanted something to happen between us, right there in the bath. I didn't care if it was in front of them."

* * *

The battle was over, the dead had been collected. The wounded were being cared for. Ragnar walked up to Floki, sitting next to Thorstein's dead body.

"This is your fault, Ragnar", Floki muttered, "Thorstein died for a hill, he did not want to own. It was a pointless death. This is what your friend Athelstan has persuaded you to do, here we are, under an English sky, burying those we sacrificed for Jesus Christ. Or have you in your heart already renounced our gods and turned to the Christ god?"

"We are all fated to die a certain day", Ragnar told him, "But until that day, we are free to do as we please. I didn't force Thorstein to come, nor any of you. You all chose to fight."

"My heart is as heavy as everyone's for Throstein", Ragnar added, "But I know that I will bump into him again soon enough. In the meantime, Floki, shut your face!"

Ragnar angrily stood up and walked over to the tent, where Bjorn was kneeling beside Thorunn. She was unconscious and her face was covered in a muddy paste under a bloody bandage.

"Is she dead?" Ragnar asked.

"No. But her face…" Bjorn whined, "It is all my fault. I didn't protect her."

"That is what the shield is for", Ragnar told him, "We fight – we win and we die."

"But she's with child", Bjorn blurted out.

"And you let her come?" Ragnar asked angrily. Then he slapped his son's face.

"She may die, with your child in her belly", Ragnar said, "This will be your fault. You have the strength of a man, but the will of a little girl. I can't believe you are my son! I can't even look at you!"

* * *

Sansa was walking through the camp, when Kwentrith and her brother Burghred approached her.

"Sansa, my brother has to tell you something", Kwentrith began.

"I beg your forgiveness", Burghred said, "I never meant to fight against you. I was led by evil advisors…"

Sansa looked at him for a moment, then punched him in the face, causing Burghred to fall backwards to the ground.

"I forgive you", she smiled.

* * *

Egbert and his nobles were assembling at the fields. They had come to the settlement to deliver the good news about the victory in Mercia. They had been invited to observe the sacrifice, which was about to be made, to ensure a strong harvest.

A cow was placed in the middle of the clearing as sacrifice. Lagertha walked up and climbed up onto a barrel, so everyone could see her. She was wearing a ceremonial white dress and her face was marked with runes.

"Frey, god of plenty", Lagertha began, "Frey, son of Njord, fill the mother earth with your phallus and make her rich. Now is the time!"

The man carrying an axe chopped off the cow's head. The blood was caught in bowls, before it spilled into the earth. Lagertha dipped two fingers into the blood, smearing it over her face, before two of the others raised the bowls, soaking Lagertha's white dress with the dark red blood.

They distributed the first crop to be sown and placed it in the bowls with the blood. Then Lagertha and several others walked over the first filed, sowing the grain into the earth.

The Saxons watched in awe and disgust, as the crop was sown. Only one of them dared to voice his thoughts.

"My Lord, this is sacrilege", he said, "Unless they renounce their heathen ways, they should not be allowed to stay here."

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 _A/N: So, Mercia is conquered and soon they will all return to Wessex. How will Bjorn and Thorunn get on with each other after what happened?  
_

 _And Sansa is definitely growing into the role of a leader, just as Ragnar would want his children to be..._

 _I hope you liked it!_

 _Don't forget to review!_


	26. Scarred

_A/N: Vikings Season 3!_

 ** _Thank you for your reviews! As well as all those who follow or favorited this story!  
_**

 _Mercia is conquered and the armies of Wessex and the Northmen return to Wessex...  
_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of Thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 **Chapter 26 Scarred**

Ivar's cries filled the bedroom in the great hall, where Aslaug, Siggy and Helga sat together. Aslaug was kneeling next to her son's crib, trying to calm him down. His cries would surely soon wake Arya and Gyda, and once that happened, it would be most exhausting to calm them all down. It was fruitless. Then she remembered the other night, when Ivar had been suffering of bad pain. The stranger, Harbard, had somehow been able to get him to sleep.

"Where is Harbard?" Aslaug asked.

"I don't know", Siggy shot back. She still did not trust the man.

"You have to find him", Aslaug told her, "Ivar is suffering so badly, I can't get him to sleep."

"Why can't you look after your own child?" Siggy wanted to know.

In this moment, the door opened and Harbard entered.

"I am here", he said. He bowed down to Ivar's crib and whispered in his ear, "There is no more pain Ivar. No more pain. Go to sleep."

Suddenly, the boy's cries faded and his eyes became heavy. A few seconds later, he was asleep.

"You have such powers", Siggy said, "Are you a god?"

"I wish", Harbard smiled as he left the room.

* * *

The combined army of the Northmen and Wessex returned to their camp at the bank of the river. Most were marching on foot, Ragnar, Rollo and Sansa in between them. Bjorn was riding a cart, where Thorunn was lying, still unconscious from her wound. Athelwulf and Kwentrith were riding amongst the soldiers, the captured Burghred riding next to his older sister.

They reached the camp shortly before noon, the day after the battle. They all settled back in, herding the prisoners together, putting aside their weapons and searching for something to eat.

Bjorn stopped the cart in front of his tent. He carefully took Thorunn in his arms and laid her down in the grass. Thorunn's eye opened slightly, when Bjorn pulled off the cloth bandage and the muddy paste that covered the right half of her face. She moaned slightly, before her eyes closed again and she drifted back to sleep.

* * *

Floki and Rollo were sitting at a table, eating a small meal, when Athelwulf walked up to them. He sat down at the table and took a deep breath.

"Friends", he said in broken Norse, "No more enemies. My mind is diver…"

"Different", Rollo helped out.

"Different", Athelwulf repeated, "We fight together, we win."

Rollo sat there, studying the prince's face for a few moments. Then he nodded.

"I agree, my friend", he finally said. Athelwulf smiled and walked away. Rollo looked after him, while Floki glared at Rollo.

"So much for Rollo, the warrior", Floki spat.

"Forget it, Floki", Rollo sighed, "We cannot fight everyone. This is the future."

"Maybe your Christian baptism worked after all, _Robert_ ", Floki argued, "You said it was a joke, but I don't believe it."

"You know very well, that it was a joke", Rollo objected, "But there must be alliances and cooperation, just as there are among the gods."

* * *

Sansa watched as her father was lying in the grass. She had seen the wound the spear had left. It was not deep or really dangerous, but it was without doubt painful. A cut straight across the belly, not deep, but deep enough to forbid him quick movement.

Without noticing Sansa, Kwentrith walked up to Ragnar and knelt down next to him.

"I see, you're still suffering", Kwentrith said, "I could make it better."

Ragnar grunted as he sat up. "How?"

"Lie back", she told him. The princess opened her skirts and sat down on Ragnar's belly, leaning forward and kissing him.

* * *

Aslaug was in a hurry to get out of the great hall. She was stopped by Siggy who was standing in her way.

"Where are you going?" Siggy asked, holding little Arya in her arms.

"Out", Aslaug snapped.

"With him?" Siggy queried, "You are leaving your children and grandchildren behind – again!"

"They will be save with you", Aslaug replied curtly, before she walked past her friend and out of the door.

* * *

Aslaug and Harbard had been walking over the market place together. Now they had snuck into a yard in the fish yard.

"Remove your clothes", Harbard told her.

"It is cold", Aslaug blushed.

"Then go back to your children", Harbard offered as he pulled his tunic above his head.

"I don't want to be with my children", Aslaug said, as she hesitatingly dropped her cloak to the floor and began to unlace her dress.

They stood half naked in front of each other, before Harbard stepped forward and sat Aslaug up on a table. He lifted her skirts and began to kiss her hungrily.

* * *

Athelstan was lying in the bed, panting heavily. Next to him was lying Princess Judith.

"It's done", the princess said, "I love you Athelstan."

He kissed her again. "I love you too, Judith", he told her.

* * *

The ships were being rowed back along the river towards Wessex. Rollo was among the oarsmen, as was Sansa, while Ragnar was seated across them, splicing a rope.

"Floki says we have betrayed our gods to serve a Christian king and a Christian god", Rollo told his brother.

"Unlike Floki, I don't think I can speak for the gods", Ragnar told him, "What limits put Odin on his curiosity?"

"His eye", Sansa replied.

"So unless, I seek up these limits", Ragnar told them, "How can I say, I have honored his spirit? I am not afraid to meet the god."

At the bow of the ship, Bjorn was sitting beside Thorunn. Floki walked up to him and squatted down next to him.

"It is not his fault", Bjorn said, knowing that Floki would blame Ragnar. Floki looked at him for a moment.

"You are right", he agreed, "It's someone else's fault. Who brought the Christ god into our lives?"

* * *

King Egbert was looking out of his bedroom window, in the far distance he could already see the ships approach the city. He turned to Lagertha who was lying naked in the bed.

"Ragnar will surely not stay long", he began, "He has his kingdom to look after. But someone has to stay to ensure the success of the settlement."

"Someone will stay", Lagertha told him, "But I also have my lands and my people to look after."

"What if I'd ask you personally to stay?" Egbert pleaded.

"I've enjoyed your company very much, and the sex is great", Lagertha smiled, "But still, I realized that you only care about yourself."

* * *

Everyone cheered as the warriors returned to the royal villa. They entered the main room separately.

"My son!" Egbert exclaimed, "No father was ever prouder."

Athelwulf stepped forward and was embraced by his father. After they broke apart, he moved on to embracing Judith.

Next, Kwentrith and Burghred stepped forward.

"Sire, this is my younger brother Burghred", she introduced him, "He says the campaign against us was no fault of his."

"My sister told me that you were a most forgiving monarch", Burghred stammered, "I throw myself completely at your mercy."

"No, you are most welcome", Egbert refused, "Please, come and join us for the feast."

Finally, Ragnar entered the room, followed by Sansa.

"Forgive me, if I don't kiss your hand", Ragnar smiled.

"I told you before, I see you as an equal", Egbert reminded him, "I believe you want to talk with Earl Ingstad about the settlement. And you are also welcome, Sansa. We have all heard of the great victories you all have achieved."

"Thank you, King Egbert", Sansa smiled weakly before she stepped towards the others.

Lagertha was waiting a little further in the room, and Ragnar walked over to her.

"You're wounded", Lagertha stated as he came closer.

"Yes, but Princess Kwentrith gave me some of her medicine", Ragnar smiled, "How's the settlement?"

"The settlement is fine", Lagertha told him, "The first crop has been sowed and King Egbert ensured us of his protection."

"You two seem to get along well?" Ragnar hinted.

"We do", Lagertha smiled, "For the sake of all of us."

"So you've sacrificed yourself for the greater good?" Ragnar asked grinning.

"As did you, Ragnar", Lagertha replied smiling.

Ragnar was fuming when he walked off to eat. Shortly after he was gone, Lagertha encountered Sansa.

"How are you, Sansa?" she asked her stepdaughter.

"A few cuts and bruises", Sansa told her, "Nothing serious. But we paid a heavy price."

Lagertha raised an inquiring eyebrow.

"Thorstein is dead", Sansa told her, "And Thorunn is badly wounded, she hasn't been awake much since."

"I'm sorry to hear that", Lagertha answered, "But I'm glad you are alright."

The celebrations were well underway. Musicians played their songs, servants kept the cups filled. Bjorn was missing the feast, looking after Thorunn, who had begun to be awake for longer periods. Several drunken warriors got into a fight with each other. Others were getting their third or sometimes fourth portion of the feast.

* * *

In Hedeby, a long awaited guest arrived in the great hall. Kalf stood up from his chair as the guest entered the room.

"Erlendur, son of Horik", he greeted him, "I'm glad you came."

"I am most grateful for your invitation, Earl Kalf", Erlendur replied, "I believe with all my heart that we are natural allies against the Lothroks. And we have another ally."

Kalf looked at him blankly.

"You may recall Jarl Borg, blood-eagled by Ragnar Lothbrok", Erlendur added, "He never killed Jarl Borg's wife, who gave birth to a son, and who is now my wife."

Kalf looked up as Torvi stepped forward, holding a small baby in her arms.

* * *

Bjorn was sitting next to Thorunn's bed. Through the ceiling, the music and laughter of the feast could be heard. Thorunn opened her remaining eye a little.

"Are you enjoying yourself, Bjorn?" she asked, "There must be a feast."

Bjorn refused to answer, instead smiled gravely at her.

"Poor Bjorn", Thorunn reflected, "You won't want to marry me now."

"I do want to marry you, Thorunn", Bjorn insisted, planting a kiss on her forehead.

"Don't be stupid", Thorunn said, "You can find yourself a prettier bride."

"I don't care about pretty", Bjorn sighed, "I love you, and I will love our child."

"Are you sure?" Thorunn asked.

"I'd marry you right here, if you want", Bjorn told her.

"I believe this is a great idea", Thorunn said, "But not this evening. Today is the celebration of the victory over Mercia."

* * *

The celebrations had almost died down, the leaders of the Northmen, Northumbria, Wessex and Mercia had lounged themselves together, sitting comfortably.

"Burghred, my dear brother, before all these guests, let me tell you how glad I am about our alliance", Kwentrith began, "There were times when I wanted to kill every single one of my family, but these times are past. Let us drink to victory over my abusers!"

She handed her brother a cup of wine and Burghred gulped it down fast. As soon as he had drunk from the cup, Kwentrith spilled hers. Burghred began to cough and gasp for air. He stood up and began to cry, before he collapsed and died of suffocation.

Sansa watched with a morbid fascination as Burghred turned into the dying Joffrey in her mind. She was unable to think why Kwentrith had poisoned her brother, especially when she had claimed that he was the only one in her family she had loved.

 _Poison is a woman's weapon_ , she told herself.

Kwentrith stood up from her couch, and addressed the others.

"My lords, Ladies and Gentlemen, Please rise and raise your cup to the sole ruler of Mercia."

"To the Queen of Mercia!" Ragnar grinned.

"The Queen!" everyone joined in weakly. Then they all looked at each other, no one eager to taste the wine first. Finally, they all spilled it demonstratively and threw their cups at Kwentrith's feet.

* * *

The next day, everyone had gathered for a short ceremony to celebrate the wedding of Bjorn and Thorunn. Aside from Ragnar, Lagertha and Sansa, Egbert, Aelle, Judith and Kwentrith had attended. Rollo was also present, standing next to Athelstan and Athelwulf. Even Bishop Edmund had found the time to attend. When asked, why he would attend such a pagan ceremony, he had claimed, it was a royal wedding as well, the couple should surely be also protected by his own prayers. And finally, when good Christians like the Kings of Wessex and Northumbria were able to attend, he would not stay away.

Floki was holding the ceremony, as he had been asked by Ragnar. He was casting angry glances to the group of Christians on one side of the audience. Sansa had braided Thorunn's hair with the flowers, Thorunn was wearing one of Lagertha's dresses.

"The sword transforms the family's protection over the bride to her husband", Floki declared, as the couple exchanged the swords they were holding. Floki placed the rings on the tips of the swords and held Bjorn's head close.

"Do you swear to the gods, that you want to marry this woman?" he asked.

"I swear with the gods as my witnesses", Bjorn said loudly.

"Thorunn, do you swear to the gods that you want to marry this man?" Floki asked again.

"I do swear", Thorunn said, "By all gods."

They placed the rings on each other's fingers, then Floki looked happily around.

"Now you are married!" he declared. Next to him, Bjorn and Thorunn were locked in a tight embrace and a passionate kiss.

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 _A/N: It always bugged me that Bjorn and Thorunn never got married. In the first episodes, she's called his lover and then she accepts the proposal, and later Bjorn refers to her as his wife, but I wanted to add the wedding scene. Obviously it is close to Floki's and Helga's wedding. I hope you like it!  
_

 _Don't forget to review!_


	27. The Usurper

_A/N: Vikings Season 3!_

 ** _Thank you for your reviews! As well as all those who follow or favorited this story!  
_**

 ** _This story just topped 10.000 Views! An enourmos THANK YOU to each and every one of you!_**

 _Trouble awaits back home in Denmark...  
_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of Thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

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 **Chapter 27 The Usurper**

The ships were sailing steadily through the fjord towards Kattegat. The sails and banners were catching the wind. The stylized Yggdrasil flying on the ships of Hedeby mixed with the red and black of Kattegat, in the middle the raven banner flying on Ragnar's ship. Several others were amongst them, ships that belonged to poor Earls and farmers, who had nevertheless joined in the raid.

In the lead boat, Ragnar was lying flat on the deck, Athelstan sitting next to him.

"Tell me about Paris", Ragnar urged. Athelstan rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. "Again?" he asked.

"I only went there once", Athelstan began, "I was visiting a monastery in Francia, outside of Paris. One day, the monks took me to see it. It rises straight out of the water. It has these huge walls, and inside, there are beautiful houses of stone and marble. And churches, prettier than anywhere else."

Athelstan bowed down towards Ragnar.

"But what I remember more, are the beautiful women", he told him. Ragnar sat up, smiling broadly.

"You never told me that part before", he stated.

"The most beautiful women in the world", Athelstan told him, "I almost ... questioned my ... my vows of celibacy."

* * *

In another ship, Rollo and Floki were sitting together.

"I wonder what they're talking about", Floki muttered.

"Who?" Rollo wanted to know.

"Ragnar and that priest", Floki said, "It sickens me too watch them…"

* * *

When they approached Kattegat, Ragnar sat up.

"You're lucky", Ragnar told the former monk.

"Why?" Athelstan asked confused.

"Because you've never been married", Ragnar spat, "I wouldn't come back here, if it weren't for my children."

"At least you have children", Athelstan reminded him.

* * *

Back in the middle of the ship, Bjorn was kneeling next to Thorunn. Her face was still covered in bandages.

"Thorunn, are you thirsty?" he asked.

"No Bjorn, I'm not thirsty", Thorunn murmured, "Or hungry. Or really alive."

* * *

On another ship, Lagertha was stepping next to Sansa.

"How's your wrist?" Lagertha asked.

"It'll heal", Sansa replied, "I've been worse."

"You've been awfully quiet, ever since you returned from Mercia", Lagertha told her, "What's going on? Aren't you excited to see your children again?"

"What do you care?" Sansa spat.

"Listen to me", Lagertha glared, "You are my stepdaughter, and you've been my friend even before. I _do_ care about you. You don't speak to me in that tone!"

"I'm sorry for shouting at you", Sansa admitted, "But I don't want to talk about it."

"Really?" Lagertha asked, "I might be able to help. I don't suppose you're so shaken by battle. You've seen that before."

"It's not what happened in Mercia", Sansa stated, "It's a ghost from my past."

Lagertha shot an inquiring look at her. Sansa took a deep breath.

"I saw someone die of poison a long time ago", Sansa began, "He was the king in the country where I lived. It was his wedding feast, I was there as his uncle's wife. My husband was serving as his cupbearer, and suddenly the king began to cough. He turned all purple in his face and after a few minutes, he was dead. I barely escaped the guards and a friend brought me to that monastery, where father found me."

"Did you poison the wine?" Lagertha asked, "Or why did you need to escape?"

"No, some other lord did it", Sansa recalled, "But I was a suspect, given that my hatred for King Joffrey was well known."

"I'm not sorry, that he died", Sansa reflected after a short pause, "But even he didn't need to suffer like that."

* * *

The ships were tied to the pier or anchored out in the fjord. The crews began to unload the weapons and supplies, others helped the wounded ashore.

Bjorn was guiding Thorunn, her face still hidden under a hood, as they encountered Aslaug.

"She will be alright", Bjorn told her in passing.

Rollo was looking all over the pier.

"Where's Siggy?" he asked Aslaug, "I cannot find her."

"Siggy is dead", Aslaug stammered, "Ubba and Hvitserk fell through the ice and Siggy saved their lives. But she drowned."

Ragnar stepped close to him and hugged his brother, trying to comfort him.

* * *

Lagertha and Sansa were helping one of the Hedeby shieldmaidens ashore. They had an arm around each of their shoulders, guiding her softly to the beach.

"It will be alright", Sansa tried to comfort the woman, even younger than her, "It's only a broken leg."

They watched as two heavily pregnant women were walking amongst the wounded, studying their faces carefully.

"Who are you looking for?" Sansa asked them.

"Thorstein", they both answered.

"Both of you?" Lagertha asked in disbelief. They nodded slightly.

"Thorstein is in Valhalla", Sansa informed them.

* * *

Ragnar was following Aslaug to the great hall.

"Why was Siggy taking care of our children?" he wanted to know. Helga and Floki came around the corner and interrupted them.

"We took turns", Helga told them, "That day, it happened to be Siggy. On another day, it could have been me."

"I wasn't asking you, Helga", Ragnar told her, pointing at Aslaug, "I was asking her."

"Helga is right", Aslaug told him, "We took turns caring for our children."

"I find that funny", Ragnar mused, "Considering that Siggy's children are all dead."

* * *

Sansa stepped into her room of the great hall. Helga followed her close behind. A smile formed on Sansa's face as she looked at her two small daughters, sleeping peacefully in their cribs.

"How are they?" she inquired.

"They're fine", Helga replied understandingly, "They can be a handful to get them to sleep, though."

"Thank you so much, Helga", Sansa stammered with happy tears in her eyes as she stroked her daughter's hair back, "You're the best friend I could wish for."

* * *

In the afternoon, it began to rain. Shortly thereafter, the streets of Kattegat had turned into mud. Rollo was sitting amongst other warriors, drinking one horn of Ale after the other.

"Would you like another to drink, Rollo?" one of them asked.

"Why not?" Rollo agreed and was swiftly handed the horn.

"He hasn't drowned his sorrows yet!" one of the men mocked.

"What did you say?" Rollo yelled, "You should know better than to mess with me!"

He was walking towards the mocking warrior. Or staggering from all the Ale he had drunk.

"Uncle, Stop!" Bjorn called as he tackled Rollo to the ground, "They'll kill you!"

Rollo swung his fist at Bjorn, hitting him on the head. Bjorn punched him right back, forcing Rollo to stumble backwards. Rollo punched him in the stomach, and while Bjorn was trying to regain his balance, Rollo shoved him outside into the rain. They danced around each other for a while, striking blows and hammering fists down at each other. They both were quickly covered in bruises and light cuts.

Bjorn's fist was avoided by Rollo and they locked their arms together, grappling at each other's face and clothes. They both fell to the muddy ground, rolling around in the sand. Finally, Bjorn pulled himself free and stood above Rollo.

"Hit me", Rollo pleaded. Bjorn hesitated for a second, then let his fist connect with Rollo's chin, knocking him out. Rollo fell into the mud and the crowd they had gathered cheered loudly.

* * *

Lagertha, Floki, Sansa and Helga were sitting at the hearth in the great hall, when Bjorn walked in. He was sporting two black eyes, a split lip and a cut on his temple.

"Bjorn! What happened?" Lagertha asked afraid.

"I got into a fight with my uncle", Bjorn replied.

"You fought with Rollo?" Floki asked, deeply impressed.

"I wanted them to stop killing him", Bjorn said. He picked a rag up from the table and pressed it against the bleeding cut on his head, trying to stop the bleed.

* * *

The rider was quickly galloping through the narrow streets of Kattegat. He stopped in front of the great hall.

"I must speak with Earl Ingstad!" he declared.

"She's inside", one of the warriors said. The rider dismounted quickly and entered the great hall. Lagertha was sitting amongst other shieldmaidens.

"Earl Ingstad, I bring a grave message", he began, "You have been usurped from power. Forgive me, I'm only the messenger..."

"Who has done this?" Lagertha asked in shock, "Who has usurped me?"

"Kalf", the messenger told her, "He is now ruling Hedeby as Earl."

"Kalf?!" Lagertha replied, "But that's impossible!"

"Yet it has happened", the messenger confirmed.

* * *

Later that day, Lagertha and Ragnar were alone in a smaller room. Ragnar was leaning on the wall, while Lagertha was pacing rapidly in front of him.

"I supported you in Wessex, now you must support me", Lagertha told Ragnar, "Together, we can overthrow this usurper."

"Firstly", Ragnar said, "You came to Wessex out of your own will. Secondly, if there's a civil war, many of our people will die – is your Earldom really that much worth?"

"Yes it is", Lagertha confirmed.

"Why?" Ragnar asked her.

"Because it is rightfully _mine_ ", Lagertha reminded him.

"Well, there's never been much use in arguing with you, Lagertha", Ragnar admitted, "We shall go and talk to him, together."

* * *

Sansa was sitting in the chair behind Thorunn, who was facing the wall of her small house.

"Let me help you", Sansa urged her sister-in-law.

"Nobody can help me", Thorunn refused, "How can you help me with this?"

She pulled her hood back and revealed the scar on her face and the empty eye socket. Sansa smiled bravely at her.

"How do they call me?" she asked after a moment's thought.

"Sansa, 'bloody-hair'", Thorunn answered.

"Do you know how I came to this name?" Sansa wanted to know.

"You are called so, because you smear the blood of your enemies in your hair", Thorunn said, "Or so I'm told."

"I like that story as well, but it's not how I got that name", Sansa told her, before stroking back her hair, where her ear had once been.

"I was wounded in battle", Sansa recalled, "The same day, Bjorn was named 'Ironside', and Rollo nearly died, I was almost killed as well. A sword took my ear off, broke my collarbone and a couple of ribs. I nearly lost my arm that day. After the battle, my hair was sticky with my own blood. You are not the first one, to be wounded in battle, and you will not be the last one. Thank the gods that you are still alive and get over yourself!"

* * *

Ragnar and Aslaug were sitting at separate tables, eating their meals. They dared not to face each other.

"Who is Harbard?" Ragnar asked. Aslaug rolled her eyes in desperation.

"Who is Harbard?" Ragnar repeated.

"You want to know about Harbard?" Aslaug asked, "I'll tell you about Harbard. Who he was to your son. The son you leave behind. When you went away, Harbard helped him. Look at how peaceful he sleeps. Harbard took his suffering from him."

"Was he good?" Ragnar wanted to know.

"Yes. He was a good man", Aslaug replied.

* * *

A few days later, everyone had assembled in the great hall. Bjorn was playing with Hvitserk, while Sansa was telling Ubba and Sigurd about England. Finally, the room when silent, when Ragnar walked up to his chair and sat down.

"I have made up my mind", he announced, "This coming year, we will attack Paris!"

"What is _'Paris'_?" Rollo asked.

"That is a good question, brother", Ragnar agreed, "Paris is a city in the country of Francia. Next!"

"Why haven't you told us about this before?" Bjorn wanted to know.

"Because I'm telling you now", Ragnar smiled, "This is not going to be easy. By all accounts, Paris is a huge, walled city. Well protected."

He stood up and stepped on the table.

"Athelstan has been to Paris", Ragnar added, "And the wanderer, who first told me about England, he told me of it as well... We must find him!"

They all cheered in agreement.

"For it is good, to travel with hope and courage, but it is still better to travel with knowledge!" Ragnar exclaimed. Everyone in the room cheered loudly.

When Ragnar was about to leave the room, he was intercepted by Lagertha.

"What about your promise?" she asked.

"What promise?" Ragnar wanted to know.

"To go to Hedeby with me", Lagertha reminded him, "To speak to the usurper."

* * *

The doors of Hedeby's great hall flew open as Lagertha burst into the room, followed by her guards.

"KALF!" she yelled, "You have usurped my rights and my lands, to whom you were sworn in fealty and trust. I expect you to hand both land and title back."

Kalf looked up as Ragnar and Sansa walked through the door. In contrary to Lagertha, who was wearing a beautiful red dress, they had both chosen to wear their battle jackets.

"King Ragnar", Kalf bowed his head.

"Hello Kalf, Ragnar said, "Maybe we could discuss these matters in private."

Kalf and Sansa followed Ragnar into a smaller room, while Lagertha was left standing with her mouth open.

"Please, sit", Ragnar urged him. He was pacing through the room, while Sansa was leaning on the wall.

"No need to be so nervous", Sansa smiled at Kalf, "We won't bite."

"I would like to avoid the unnecessary loss of lives, fighting a civil war with you", Ragnar mused, "Do you mind if I call you _Earl_ Kalf?"

"Not at all", Kalf muttered.

"Next spring, I will invade a country called Francia", Ragnar told him, "I would like to invite you to join me on this raid. Your men and your ships."

"And what if I refuse?" Kalf wanted to know.

"Then you'll lose everything", Ragnar told him.

"Let me put it like this", Sansa explained, her hand touching the axe that hung from her belt, "Lagertha is a valuable ally to us. Proven and trustworthy. If we helped her back to her titles, she will surely join us and support us. So we need a new ally. Unless you are that ally, there is no point for my father in accepting your rule."

"You mean my rule?" Lagertha asked, as she entered the room.

"That is between you and my ex-wife", Ragnar informed Kalf, before he and Sansa left the room.

"You did good", Ragnar whispered into Sansa's ear.

"Thank you, father", Sansa smiled, "Do you think he'll come around?"

"What choice does he have?" Ragnar giggled, "But he'll need a lot of luck, when he's dealing with Lagertha."

Back in the room, Kalf was standing up from the chair.

"Why don't you sit down, Lagertha?" he offered. Hesitatingly, Lagertha placed herself on the chair. Kalf handed her a cup of Ale, which she refused.

"Just let me say, that I was born here in Hedeby, and I have a fierce pride in being its Earl", Kalf began, "I want to use my title to do good for the folk here."

"You betrayed me", Lagertha stated, "You must have planned this for a long time."

"I did", Kalf admitted, "Although I desired you, all the time, and never stopped."

"You desired me?!" Lagertha asked, "What am I supposed to do with this knowledge?"

"Whatever you want", Kalf smiled.

* * *

Ragnar was standing on one of the ships anchored near the pier. He was staring out into the fjord, when Floki stepped next to him.

"There is something you don't know about this Harbard", Floki began, "About this Harbard and your wife. He took Aslaug away from her children. They went out together and snuck into the fish huts, staying there for hours. Helga says she smelled like fish when she returned. Many times."

Ragnar turned and began to walk away silently.

"Do you know, who Harbard is?" Floki asked, "Harbard is Odin. The god Odin, who visited Kattegat. It was Odin who slept with your wife!"

Ragnar just kept on walking, ignoring Floki.

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 _A/N: So, Sansa and Ragnar are basically forcing Kalf to support them. And we are soon going to see Paris...  
_

 _Those of you, who watched the first episodes of Vikings Season 3 closely, will remember that Thorunn indeed still has both her eyes. I have to admit, I messed this fact up when I drafted these chapters, then when I realized my mistake, I actually grew to like my version. With a cut like this, it is very easy for a sword to cause permanent damage to the eye, and I find it rather odd in comparison that the blade merely caused a flesh wound in the episode._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	28. Born Again

_A/N: Vikings Season 3!_

 ** _Thank you for your reviews! As well as all those who follow or favorited this story!  
_**

 _I have not stated it in a while, Sansa would be 24/25 years old by now._

 _Preparing for the raid on Paris...  
_

 _ **Warning: Very graphic Violence!**_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of Thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 **Chapter 28 Born again**

Ragnar and Athelstan were sitting on the beach, a few feet away from the water. They had dug a little into the sand and filled the small trench with water.

"This is the river Seine", Athelstan explained, "I don't know where it starts, but it leads here. It widens around this island – and on this island, there's Paris."

He took a pale rock from the heap they had collected. He placed it on the island, surrounded by water.

"There are these huge walls", Athelstan continued, "They're high and thick. All around."

He took a few flat stones from the heap and pressed them into the mud, forming a wall around the island. Ragnar took the rest and did the same.

"There are towers everywhere", Athelstan continued. Ragnar laid himself flat on his belly, trying to imagine how the city would look from outside.

"How do they get into the city?" Ragnar asked. Athelstan placed a branch of a tree over water, spanning from the island to outside.

"There's a bridge", He explained, "At least one, but there might be more."

"And what defenses do they have?" Ragnar wanted to know.

"I was only a monk at that time", Athelstan reminded him, "I didn't notice such things."

"And what do you say now?" Ragnar sighed.

"Now I say, this city is impregnable", Athelstan smiled.

* * *

Thorunn's cries of pain filled the room and were heard wide over the town, as she was giving birth. Aslaug and Helga were kneeling beside her. The door opened, and Bjorn and Sansa entered, followed by Lagertha.

"I don't want this child!" Thorunn yelled, her face in a grimace of pain.

"I do", Bjorn told her, taking her hand.

"It will be weak and deformed!" Thorunn complained.

"You will love it just the same", Aslaug reminded her.

Thorunn let out another scream and suddenly the room was filled with the cries of a baby. Helga quickly wrapped it in a blanket.

"It's a girl", Aslaug declared. Thorunn fell back on the floor, gasping for air.

"Give her to me", Bjorn urged. Carefully, Helga handed him the baby.

"I'm a father", he said, as if he could not quite believe it yet, "The most beautiful baby I've ever seen."

"She needs a name, your beautiful daughter", Lagertha told him.

"I have a suggestion", Bjorn said, "If Thorunn agrees, I'd like to call her Siggy, who saved the sons of Ragnar."

* * *

Ragnar had ridden out to Hedeby to visit his newest ally. After a few days, Sansa was awoken by Floki.

"Sansa!" he whispered.

"What?" Sansa asked, pulling a cloak around her.

"There's someone here to see your father", Floki told her.

"I will be right out", Sansa sighed. She stood up and walked into the main room of the great hall. An old man was standing there, next to Floki.

"My father is not in town, but you can speak to me if you like", Sansa told the man, "I will relay your words to him as soon as he returns."

"This man is a farmer", Floki explained, "His farm is in Wessex."

"Just let him speak", Sansa urged.

"Mylady, one day, King Egbert's son, Prince Athelwulf, came with his nobles and soldiers, burning and destroying our settlement", the man recounted, "The slaughter was great. All our men, their wives and the children were killed. A few of us barely escaped. Somehow we reached the coast and stole a boat. But our misfortune was not ending. Storms blew us off course and all I wanted was to die."

"I understand", Sansa told him with tears in her eyes.

"Finally, we reached a small frozen bay in Götaland", he continued, "The boat broke on the ice. I …I saw my eldest son drown before my eyes."

"Now I am a broken man, who only wants to die and rejoin his family", the man cried, "My wife, my daughter, my sons – they're all dead."

"I know how you feel", Sansa admitted. She was thinking about Robb, Bran and Rickon, her mother, her father, Arya, even Jon. Then another face mixed amongst them – Gyda, the sister she had lost before she had gained her.

"We ignored the warnings of the gods, and so they refused to protect our farmers", Floki commented, "And who can blame them?"

"Believe me, Floki", Sansa vowed, "King Egbert and his son will feel the wrath of the gods. And they will pay the price for their actions."

"And what about Athelstan?" Floki asked.

"Athelstan?" Sansa could not quite follow.

"Athelstan persuaded your father to trust King Egbert", Floki argued, "To trust the Christians."

"Ragnar trusted Egbert, because he chose to", Sansa objected, "Athelstan is not to blame."

They locked eyes for a moment, then Floki gave in and walked out of the room.

"Have you told anyone else?" Sansa asked the farmer.

"No, I wanted to bring this right in front of you", he replied.

"You are a courageous man", Sansa complimented him, "I am sure your family awaits your arrival in the presence of the gods."

She dropped the cloak which she had wrapped around her body, revealing the inner layer of her gown. The old farmer's eyes wandered down to her breasts, shining through the fabric, as Sansa stepped closer.

"You can be with your family now", Sansa told him as she put her arms around his neck. For a second he was caught off guard, and Sansa used the time to close her fingers around his throat. Her foot kicked his leg and he lost his balance and fell silently to the floor, while Sansa continued to strangle him. He kicked and tried to grab her, to release her fingers from his throat. Finally, his movements slowed.

"Go and be with your family", Sansa whispered as pressed a kiss on his forehead. The man's eyes became empty and after she was certain of his death, Sansa's fingers loosened on his throat.

* * *

Athelstan was sleeping peacefully in his bed. Rats were moving around on the floor. One climbed up on the bed, sniffing her way, until it reached Athelstan. The rat ran away squeaking, when Athelstan woke up from his sleep.

Athelstan sat up on his bed, trying to figure out, why he had awoken. It was just a rat, he thought. Then, his eyes caught a beam of light, falling through a branch hole in the wooden walls of his room. He was sure it was night outside, and it did not look like the light caused by a candle or a torch. Honestly, it didn't quite look like the light of day either. It was pure, white light, not disturbed or flickering in the least.

His curiosity awoken, Athelstan stepped towards the light and eyed it carefully. His hand was able to block it, just as it would do with any other beam of light. He knelt down and tried to look straight into the light, hoping to see the source.

His eyes burned, as he put his head next to the wood hole. Athelstan looked straight into the light for a few seconds, until he was reminded of words he himself had long forgotten.

 _I am the lord, thy god. Thou shalt have no other gods before me._

Athelstan gulped and suddenly felt lifted up from the ground and thrown onto his back, panting heavily.

* * *

In the royal Villa in Wessex, Princess Judith was lying in her bed, her handmaids around her, one carrying a newborn baby. The doors flew open, and a group of monks and soldiers burst into the room.

"You must come with us to the place appointed", the leading monk said, "It is by the King's order."

The soldiers marched up to the bed and dragged the princess out of the sheets. They dragged the fighting, screaming and kicking princess through the hallways of the royal villa and out into the streets.

"Please! My children need me!" Judith begged, "Let go of me!"

As they entered the main place, stone and vegetables flew from all sides at the princess. The soldiers dragged her forward through the screaming crowd onto a small platform in the middle of the square. Judith was tied to a pole.

"Judith, you have been accused of adultery, with person or persons unknown", Bishop Edmund spoke up, "You deny that accusation, yet we find sufficient evidence for your crime. Have you to say anything?"

"Athelwulf, HUSBAND! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Judith screamed at the prince, sitting at the edge of the place with his father, "SIRE! PLEASE, I BEG MERCY!"

"Judith, daughter of Aelle, wife of Athelwulf", the bishop addressed her, "you are hereby found guilty to the charge of adultery. The sentence applied by the holy book is that your ears and nose are being cut off."

The crowd cheered as one of the monks was heating a knife over a fire. Judith began to pant heavily, her eyes widened with horror. The monk took the blade and moved to Judith's ear. As he was about to cut, King Egbert stood up from his chair.

"Stay!" he commanded, "Judith, will you not tell us the name of your child's father?"

When Judith refused to answer, the monk cut her ear off. Judith screamed in agony as the heated blade cut through her flesh. Blood was streaming down her face, while the monk was holding up the ear in triumph. He threw it to the ground and readied himself for the second ear, when Judith whispered, "Athelstan."

"Athelstan!" she screamed, "Athelstan is the father of my child."

"Halt!" King Egbert commanded. The monk stopped and stepped back.

"Athelstan is a holy man", Egbert whispered to Athelwulf, "I cannot blame my daughter-in-law for being attracted to such a man."

"But, father, can you not understand my humiliation?" Athelwulf asked.

"I can", Egbert told him, "But maybe another way is better. I have no doubt about Athelstan's spirituality and his deep connection with god. How can we punish a woman, who has been chosen by god?"

He stepped forward and entered the platform.

"There will be a christening after all", he declared, "The boy's name will be Alfred."

* * *

Athelstan came to his senses again as he lay there on the floor. Finally, he rolled around, feeling his surroundings in the dark. His fingers feeling over his body, exploring the shape and feel, as if he'd forgotten how it felt.

"Oh lord", he prayed, "Thank you! I asked for a sign and you've given me one. I was blind, and I can see again. I was dead but now I am reborn."

As the morning came, Athelstan walked out of his hut, wrapped in a blanket and walked out to the beach. He dropped the blanket and stood there, bare chested. Then he walked into the water, until it had reached his hip.

He pulled his arm ring from his wrist and eyed it carefully for a moment. He hesitated for a second, then took a deep breath and threw it out into the icy water of the fjord.

* * *

Ragnar came back from Hedeby in the afternoon. Sansa was awaiting him in the great hall.

"Welcome home, father", she smiled, "I need to talk to you. In private."

Ragnar looked around. The guards standing in the door quickly disappeared. Ragnar sat down on the table.

"What is it?" he asked, "You're not with child again, are you?"

Sansa sat down across the table, rocking Gyda and encouraging Arya to stand by holding her up on her tiny arms.

"No. While you were gone, there came one of the farmers from Wessex", Sansa told him, "The settlement has been destroyed, everyone was murdered."

"What?!" Ragnar asked, "Who did this?"

"Prince Athelwulf", Sansa replied, "He and his warriors killed and raped women and children and killed all the men."

"Where is this farmer?" Ragnar demanded, "I shall speak to him myself."

"You can't", Sansa told him, "I killed him."

"And why's that?" Ragnar wanted to know.

"If I had left him alive, everyone was now talking about this event", Sansa reflected, "He wanted to join his family in Valhalla anyway. And if we sailed back to Wessex, we would not be able to invade Francia. Death keeps a man more silent than gold or promises."

"You're right", Ragnar agreed reluctantly, "This must be kept a secret for now. Who else knows?"

"No one, except Floki", Sansa said, "They will pay the price for their actions, but we can't punish them right now…"

* * *

Later that day, Athelstan was speaking to Ragnar, retelling the events of the last night.

"The Lord has come to me", he told Ragnar.

"The Lord?" Ragnar asked, "Your god? What did he look like?"

"He came in the form of light", Athelstan enthused, "He didn't speak, but yet I heard him. His voice was in my head. I am born again."

"You mean, like a baby?!" Ragnar asked in confusion.

"I've rediscovered my faith", Athelstan explained, "Born again through the love of Jesus Christ. I can no longer acknowledge your gods. It is better that I leave Kattegat now."

"What do you mean?" Ragnar objected, "You cannot leave – I need you. But I am glad that you have found your god."

* * *

The rain was pouring down from the sky. Everyone had sought shelter inside. Almost everyone. Bjorn walked out to the beach, where the frames of the half-built ships were lying. He looked through the empty shipyard, until he found Floki sitting at a campfire.

"Why are you not working on the boats?" Bjorn asked impatiently.

"My heart is not in it", Floki sighed. He drew an arm ring from his pocket.

"I need to speak to your fathers about the boats and about the priest", Floki explained, "But Ragnar has no time for me. He is always talking to the priest - and when he doesn't he's with your sister."

"I know", Bjorn agreed, "And I can not help it, I sometimes feel jealous of her. I love her as if she was my sister by blood, but there are times when I wish, my father would keep me in his trust, and not her. And what about Athelstan?"

"This is Athelstan's sacred arm ring", Floki explained, "The one Ragnar gave him. I saw as he threw it into the fjord a couple of days ago, and this morning, I found it."

"Have you told Ragnar?" Bjorn asked.

"What's the point?" Floki sighed, "He won't listen when it comes to Athelstan."

"I don't understand, why my father is so interested in Christians and Christian things", Bjorn admitted, "I fear for my father. What are you going to do?"

"I will leave Kattegat", Floki decided, "I will go home to my own shipyard, to Helga and my child. In the meantime, tell our brothers about this."

* * *

Sansa was exhausted. Keeping track of the twins was getting more and more tiring, now that they had become mobile. Theiry tiny legs carried them around the great hall and Sansa was getting increasingly frustrated at how easy it was to lose sight of them.

Spring had come to Kattegat. It was time to assemble the ships and men for the raid to Francia. The ford was filled with ships anchoring.

"Whose are they?" Bjorn asked his mother. Lagertha did not need to guess, she knew that banner well enough.

"That's Kalf", she told him, "These were my ships once, now they bring Kalf to Kattegat."

* * *

Ragnar was carrying Sigurd over his shoulder as he walked out on the pier to greet the newly arrived, followed by Aslaug, Rollo and Sansa.

"Kalf!" Ragnar called, as he let Sigurd back to the ground.

"King Ragnar", Kalf bowed his head. He had visibly changed, from the shy, young advisor that had served Lagertha, he had transformed into the Earl of a Viking town. His hair and beard had grown and he was wearing a fur trimmed cloak and a jerkin of thick leather, reinforced by metal studs.

" _Earl_ Kalf", Ragnar acknowledged.

A tall man stepped ashore from another ship and stepped next to Kalf. Ragnar eyed him suspiciously, taking in his full height. He was broadly built and at least a head taller than Ragnar.

"Who is that chunk of meat?" Ragnar asked Kalf.

"This is Earl Siegfrid", Kalf explained, "He has expressed his desire to join this great journey."

"King Ragnar", Earl Siegrid said, "I put my ships and my warriors at your disposal."

"I am sure, you also remember the son of King Horik and the widow of Jarl Borg", Kalf continued, stepping aside so Ragnar could see the next in line.

"Erlendur, Torvi" Ragnar greeted them, "I must admit, I am caught a little off guard to see you both here."

"There must have been a reason, why you spared my live", Erlendur told him, "I figured, maybe it was for this. I have to ask, how is the settlement in Wessex?"

"Fine", Ragnar lied, "Everything is fine."

* * *

In the evening, the great hall was overflowing with guests. There were so many Earls, honored guests, free boat owners, that there were not enough places in the great hall for even the important guests so the hall flowed over and the guests strolled over the market place as well. The whole town was filled with feasting warriors.

Kalf was sitting on a bench as Lagertha walked up to him and sat down beside him.

"I see that you are making yourself comfortable here as well", Lagertha stated.

"I've come to join King Ragnar and you in the raid for Paris", Kalf answered, "Whatever divides us, that simple fact unites us all. We will fight and perhaps even die together."

"And if we don't die?" Lagertha asked.

"Then we will take care of the future", Kalf smiled.

"My future or yours?" Lagertha wanted to know.

"Forgive me, but I think, our destinies are already locked together", Kalf told her, "Maybe they always have been. Wouldn't you agree, Lagertha?"

Lagertha took a sip of ale from her horn and shot him an angry glare as she stood up and walked away.

* * *

Thorunn was standing by the door, her face covered with a hood. Bjorn snuck up behind her and planted a firm kiss on her shoulder.

"There is nothing more beautiful than a mother", he declared.

"You're drunk", Thorunn commented.

Bjorn's hands were gliding over his wife's body, feeling her breasts and her butt.

"I want you", he said.

"I know, It's been a long time", Thorunn said, "But I'm sorry. Let's find you a woman."

"I don't want any woman except you", Bjorn refused. Thorunn nodded towards Torvi, standing alone in the middle of the room.

"Isn't that Torvi, the widow of Jarl Borg?" Thorunn asked, "Erlendur isn't paying her any attention. You'd like her."

* * *

Sansa was drunk. Truly drunk. She was barely able to stand straight, she decided she needed a walk on the fresh air. Carefully, she navigated her way out of the great hall. She passed campfires and warriors, some singing, everyone drinking and feasting.

"Such a beautiful lady", she heard a voice behind her. She turned around and faced one of the warriors that had arrived in the last days. He was definitely neither of Kattegat nor Hedeby, she didn't know him.

"I'm a bit lonely", the man told her, "I need someone to keep me warm this night."

"Why don't you try a blanket?" Sansa suggested. She _really_ didn't feel like being picked up right now.

"Did you just refuse me?" he spat, grabbing her shoulders, "Who do you think you are?"

Pressing a hand over her mouth to silence her, he dragged Sansa over to his friends sitting around a campfire. He was greeted with a cheer.

"You found a pretty one", another warrior commented, as Sansa was kicking and punching all around, mostly missing.

One of them stood up and walked up to the struggling Sansa. He drew his knife and carefully cut the laces of her dress open. When the cloth fell from her shoulder, revealing one of her breasts, he stopped.

"That's a nasty scar", he commented, "Shieldmaidens are even more fun."

"You don't want to do this", Sansa warned.

"Oh, I do", he told her, continuing to rip her dress away. As her situation grew worse with every second, Sansa's head began to clear. Slowly, her instincts began to function and her senses began to sharpen. The two men, holding her hands did not really know what they were doing, she mused.

Sansa twisted her arm around, jerking it free of her captor. She let her body drop to the ground, as she used the same movement to grab the dagger, which had cut through her dress. Her leg entangled with the other man holding her shoulder and she used her weight to pull him down, right where she was holding the blade. His own weight caused the dagger to bury itself deep in his side. Sansa swiftly rolled over, recovered the dagger and stabbed another one in the belly. Before he had even fallen to the ground, Sansa had buried the dagger in the third one's neck. The fourth one decided, this was likely a fight lost and ran off. Sansa took a small axe from the dead man's belt and hastily aimed, before throwing it at the fleeing man. It did not injure him, but the handle of the axe hit him in the back and caused him to stumble. Sansa quickly ran up to him and called for the warriors on guard duty for help.

* * *

In the meantime, Athelstan had entered the great hall. The whole room went silent, as the men recognized him. Some spat out in front of him, others refused to let him pass. Finally, Athelstan had reached the hearth.

"Rollo", he greeted the other man.

"I have nothing to say to you, _priest_ ", Rollo said, "Except this: Where's your arm ring?"

He grabbed Athelstan's wrist and pulled back the sleeve, revealing the bare skin where the arm ring was supposed to be.

Ragnar stepped to the group and pushed Rollo aside.

"There is someone, I want you to meet", he whispered to Athelstan.

He guided the former monk towards a separate room in the great hall, where the laughter and the singing was slightly subdued. An old man was lying on a cot, as they entered.

"Athelstan, meet Sinric", Ragnar introduced them, "He's the wanderer who first told me about England."

Sinric spoke a few sentences which Athelstan was not able to understand.

"You speak the language of the franks?" Athelstan asked. Sinric nodded.

"Not only that, but he also knows how to find the mouth of the Seine", Ragnar stated.

* * *

Out in the main room, Bjorn stepped next to Torvi.

"Are you thirsty?" he asked, offering her a cup of Ale.

"Your husband is coming with us to Paris?" Bjorn queried.

"And so shall I", Torvi told him, "I refuse to be left behind."

"You have courage", Bjorn complimented her.

"I am Viking", she explained.

* * *

In the back room, Sinric had begun to build a small model to explain.

"Sailing south by southwest, we reach the mouth of the Seine", he told the others, "Several rivers empty themselves into the sea, and the muds and reefs are dangerous. When we enter the Seine, we reach Paris."

In this moment, Sansa burst through the back door. Her dress was ripped and she had bruises on her face. Her hair was dripping with blood.

"Sansa! What happened?!" Ragnar asked, "Athelstan, go get Aslaug."

"I was attacked", Sansa told him, still panting heavily, "It's alright."

"Attacked by whom?" Aslaug asked as she entered the room.

"Some drunk men", Sansa shrugged, "They're dead now. One is arrested. Nothing to worry about."

"You are the daughter of a king", Aslaug told her, "It's unacceptable that you are being attacked by drunkards in your own hometown."

"It's all right", Sansa assured her, "I took care of them. Nothing to worry about anymore."

"Are you really unhurt?" Ragnar asked, deeply concerned. He hesitated for a moment, looking deep in Sansa's eyes.

"Have you met Sinric already?" he changed the topic, "He was the wanderer who guided me to England."

"No I haven't", Sansa said, happy about the new topic, "You will never understand how much I owe you."

"I am afraid, I have no idea, what you are talking about, my dear", Sinric replied politely, "But I am glad I could help. Even if I didn't intend to."

"Sinric speaks the language of the franks", Ragnar told her, "And I want you to learn it a little. Who knows, it may come in useful…"

* * *

Floki was wandering around in his shipyard, surrounded by blocks of wood and half-finished carved dragonhead. Carefully eyeing each one, he judged which wood was best suitable for the new dragonhead. Finally, he began to chisel into the woods. As soon as he had hammered onto his tool, he stepped back, startled. To him, it seemed as if the wood was _bleeding_.

He ran back to the house. He gathered some of his tools and put on his cloak, watched by Helga.

"I've had a sign, Helga", he explained, "Blood must be spilled, a sacrifice be made."

"What are you doing?" Helga asked.

"I am going away for a while", Floki told her, "No one must ever know I'm gone."

* * *

Bjorn was lying in his bed, his naked legs entangled with a woman's. How did it come that far? He loved his wife, he was certain, yet he had not been able to stop himself from cheating on her.

Bjorn rolled over and placed his arm around the shoulders of the sleeping woman. He admired Torvi's smooth skin and her beautiful face, as she slept peacefully.

* * *

Athelstan knelt down in front of the cross he had made himself of two branches. He was praying for a long time, reading in the bible he had brought with him all the way from Lindisfarne all those years ago. He had acquired a small sample of oil, in which he dipped his fingers, before he touched all the points where Jesus had been wounded. These were the same points, where he had scars himself, a reminder of his capture by the English soldiers.

He folded his hands and kept on praying, kneeling in his underpants at the ground. Finally he opened his eyes and saw the man standing in the doorway.

"I've awaited you", Athelstan said calmly, "Lord, receive my soul!"

Floki lunged forward and with a loud cry buried his axe in Athelstan's skull, splitting it down right to the spine. Floki dipped his fingers into Athelstan's blood, as it spilled on the floor, and smeared it over his face, finalizing the rite of sacrifice.

* * *

Ragnar was struggling on the steep path through the mountains. He took a moment to catch his breath.

"I have to say, Athelstan", he said as he shifted the body on his shoulder in position, "For such a small man, you are terribly heavy."

Holding a shovel in his free hand, Ragnar slowly continued his way. Finally, he fell exhausted to the floor, at the bottom of a giant waterfall.

"This is as close to your god, as I can get you", Ragnar stated, before he began to dig.

Finally, the grave was deep enough. Ragnar placed Athelstan's dead body in the earth and began to bury him. Finally, the stomped the earth solid.

"You never explained to me what a martyr is", Ragnar began, "I still don't know. You were a brave man, Athelstan. You saw yourself as weak and conflicted, but you were fearless, because you dared to question. Why did you have to die? We had so much more to talk about."

"I always believed that death is a fate far better than life, for you will be reunited with lost loved ones", Ragnar cried, "I will never see you again, my friend. I have a feeling that your god might reject me from visiting you in heaven."

Ragnar took a small piece of wood he had found in the forest and tied it to the handle of the shovel, forming a cross. Finally, he pushed the shovel in the earth, marking the grave with the cross.

* * *

Ragnar was sitting at the bank of the river, shaving his head with a knife. The small piece of hair that had been remaining was quickly brought down by the blade. Blood was streaming from several small cuts, as Ragnar finally finished.

"Forgive me, my friend", he said, "Not for what I have done. But for what I am about to do."

He pulled Athelstan's necklace with the golden cross out of his pocket and hung it around his neck.

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 _A/N: Those of you who have seen the corresponding episode will surely agree with me that it is one of the most violent ones, especially since it is not a battle-themed episode. Among the things that happen is Judith's torture and Athelstan's death. The rape scene is my own addition, but I suspect it is statistically to be expected when you assemble 3,000 to 5,000 battle-hardened warriors and fill them with enough Ale._

 _I believe in reality Ragnar led about 100 ships against Paris, if we take for each ship a crew of 30-50 men, we easily reach this number of men..._

 _Finally, I hope you liked it, and in the next chapter we will see Paris._ _And, by the way, this is the longest chapter so far (and likely the longest chapter overall), exceeding 5,000 words!_

 _Don't forget to review!_


	29. Paris

_A/N: Vikings Season 3!_

 ** _Thank you for your reviews! As well as all those who follow or favorited this story!  
_**

 _I have not stated it in a while, Sansa would be 24/25 years old by now._

 _The vikings arrive near Paris...  
_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of Thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 **Chapter 29 Paris**

Sansa was sitting in the bow of the ship, on the very first oar. She and the others were rowing the ships along the river. She kept glancing sideways at Floki, who was staring angrily at Ragnar. Ragnar himself was sitting in the bow, smiling at Floki. He was wearing the cross that had once belonged to Athelstan visibly for everyone.

"King Ragnar!" one of the men shouted. He pointed forward. Ragnar stood up and turned around, Sansa turned her head to see. In front of them, they could barely see high towers in the mist, emerging seemingly from the middle of the river. They had reached Paris.

* * *

In the throne room of the Frankish Emperor's palace, the commander of the city's garrison was standing before his Emperor.

"We watch in dismay, the arrival of the northmen at our beautiful city", Emperor Charles stated, "We asked ourselves, how they've been allowed to reach us?"

"Imperial Highness", Count Odo, the garrison's commander, began, "We had many warnings of such an attack. The dukes of Flanders and on the northern coast were ordered to fortify their towns and block their rivers – they all refused. But while they've neglected their duties, I've not been idle myself. We have large supplies of food and water – enough to withstand a long siege, although so God will, it will not come to that."

"I am relieved to hear that", the Emperor smiled.

"Your Highness, it is still not too late to leave the city", Count Odo told him, "It would be a sensible precaution to save yourself."

"Allow me a moment to reflect, Count Odo", the Emperor said, walking out of the throne room. He entered a smaller room, where a young woman awaited him.

"Count Odo thinks, I should leave the city", Emperor Charles stated.

"You must tell Count Odo, that you have no intention of leaving your city or your people", his daughter reminded him, "They will need you."

* * *

The Vikings beached their ships a little away from the city. They could barely see the city in the distance. While most of the warriors were busy unloading the ships, others began to build defenses.

Each of the Earls had his own part of the camp, where his own banners were predominant. In the middle, a short way away from the water, yet close to every other Earl's tent, the tents for Ragnar, Sansa, Bjorn and Rollo were set up. The white banner with the black raven was flying over a flagpole next to the tent, surrounded by the red banner with the black chevrons of Kattegat.

Nearby, Lagertha's banner depicting Jormungandr could be seen, surrounded by the symbol of Yggrdasil, shown by the warriors loyal to the fierce shield maiden. On the other side of the camp, Kalf's yellow and black mixed with the white and black of Erlendur's warriors, who continued to show the colors of his father, the late King Horik.

In between all those forces of the powerful lords, an endless collection of different banners and shields could be seen, belonging to mercenaries, small chieftains, independent boat crews and alike.

In between Ragnar's tent and the river, Floki had sought out a flat section of the riverbank, where he was beginning to raise a makeshift shipyard, surrounded by other craftsmen. An army that large had a large force of blacksmiths, butchers, woodsmen, boatbuilders and cooks, they all needed the space to work.

* * *

Ragnar had assembled Bjorn, Rollo and Sansa in his tent. They were waiting patiently for his orders.

"Bjorn, I want you to keep an eye on the defenses", Ragnar commanded, "I have no intention of being surprised by the Franks."

"I will see to that, father", Bjorn agreed.

"Rollo, I want you to take a couple of boats", Ragnar ordered, "Sail around the city, take a look at the defenses, we need an estimation what we're up against, before we can formulate a plan."

"Alright, Ragnar", Rollo agreed as he left the tent. Finally, Ragnar turned to Sansa.

"Sansa, I want you to take fifty men, fully armed, on a scouting party", Ragnar told her, "I want you to explore our surroundings, find farms and acres, routes to the city, other targets in proximity, all the like…"

Sansa nodded and walked out of the tent and over to some of the warriors that belonged to Kattegat. They set out from the camp, heading towards Paris in a great arc.

They walked for hours, seeing nobody. They must all be hiding, Sansa thought. She guided her warriors to one of the farmhouses, which could be seen in the distance. Concealed by bushes, they snuck up on the farmhouse. A couple of horses were standing in the stables, geese and chicken were running free in the courtyard.

"Erik, Dag, cover the back", Sansa ordered, "If there's someone in there, they shouldn't get away through the back door."

The two men nodded and silently walked around the house. Sansa took a deep breath and held her shield tightly. She pushed the door open and entered the farmhouse, followed by several other warriors. Sansa blinked for a moment, the room was empty.

Carefully they looked around, their weapons ready in their hands. To their disappointment, there was barely anything of value to be found in the house.

* * *

Rollo was standing high on the ship's bow as he the crew rowed the three ships forward. They had chosen to explore the north arm of the river first. In the far distance, the bridge could be seen.

Rollo's eyes wandered over the empty bank of the river, where occasionally, small houses appeared among market stands, otherwise it seemed empty. He looked over again to his right, up to the city walls. He was in awe. Walls as high as he had never seen before. The walls were built by large blocks of stone, forming a smooth surface. On top, there were battlements, which seemed to be protecting the soldiers on top.

As the ships approached the bridge, more men appeared on the walls.

"Raise shields!" he ordered just before the first bolts struck the ships. Everyone was hiding behind their shields and Rollo decided, this was as far as he would get, right now.

"TURN!" he yelled, and the men at the oars began to turn the ships slowly around, before working themselves back downriver.

* * *

Sansa was searching through the house, when one of her warriors came in from outside, dragging a little girl by her arm. The girl was crying loudly.

"I found her in the stables", the warrior said.

"Well done", Sansa complimented him, "Let go of her."

The warrior released her arm and the girl stood there in the middle of the room, weeping. She was about eight years old, Sansa thought. She had long brown hair and was wearing a light blue dress.

"It's alright", Sansa told her in the Frankish language, "We will not hurt you."

The girl looked up, as Sansa stroked the tears from her cheeks.

"What is your name?" Sansa asked.

"Odila", the girl whimpered.

"That's a pretty name", Sansa told her, "I am Sansa."

"That's a pretty name, too", Odila said.

"Can you tell me where your parents are?" Sansa asked gently. Odila sobbed for a second, then looked at the shield maiden.

"They've gone to Paris", she said, "They will be back in the morning."

"Do you want to go with me and my friends, while your parents are away?" Sansa asked, "It can be that your parents will not come home in time."

The girl thought for a few seconds, then nodded silently. Sansa extended her hand to her and Odila eagerly held on to it, while they walked back to the camp.

* * *

Ragnar was playing with a mouse had had captured alive in the camp, as Floki walked up to his tent.

"You wanted to see me, Ragnar?" the shipbuilder asked.

"I miss him", Ragnar stated, "Athelstan."

"Since you carry his cross, he still is here with us", Floki pointed out.

"He would have been useful", Ragnar argued.

"We will manage without him", Floki replied.

"Well, we have no choice now", Ragnar agreed, "I know we've had our differences lately. Perhaps it is my fault. I've not been quite myself. But I want you to know that I need you, Floki. That is why I've chosen you to command this raid."

"Me?!" Floki asked in disbelief.

* * *

It had been a couple of days, since they had formed the camp. Sansa and her warriors had returned to the camp, with the little Odila at their heels.

Rollo and Bjorn had tried to sail through the southern arm of the river, only to find their progress frustrated as well, although they were able to pass the city.

For the first couple of days, Odila had not believing Sansa, when she had told her that her parents were not coming home right now. They had visited the empty farmhouse daily, until one day, Odila's mother was found in the house. Sansa left the little girl there, seeing how happy she was to finally be with her mother again.

* * *

A week after they had made camp, the commanders assembled below the giant plane, where a large table and chairs had been placed. This was the command tent.

Everyone had taken his seats around the table, Floki on Ragnar's chair, with Ragnar standing next to him. To Floki's left, Bjorn, Sansa and Rollo were sitting. Then came Kalf and Erlendur, Torvi standing behind him on the far side of the table. At Floki's right, Lagertha was seated, next to Sinric and Earl Siegfrid. Several of the less important Earls had not found places on the table and were standing around them.

"King Ragnar", Kalf spoke up, "We have reached Paris. We all want to know…"

"Wait!" Floki interrupted him, "The King, _my_ oldest friend, has asked me to take command."

Rollo looked at Ragnar in disbelief, while Bjorn gave a snort. Sansa could barely suppress a giggle. Floki looked around all the experienced warriors and leaders.

"So, how do we best attack the city?" he asked shyly.

"Some of us have taken a closer look on the city from further up the bank", Rollo told them, "We suggest a plan."

"We mount simultaneous attacks from both the water and the land", Bjorn explained.

"I will lead the assault on the tower and the gate", Lagertha volunteered.

"We will attack the gates together", Kalf objected.

"I said, I will lead the assault", Lagertha repeated.

"We may need the tools Erlendur made", Kalf reminded her.

"I will make that decision", Lagertha smiled, "If and when we need to make it."

"I trust Earl Kalf to make it", Erlendur refused.

"I don't think you were listening!" Lagertha raged.

Ragnar smiled slightly, as Floki helplessly watched the two warriors argue.

"At the same time as the attack on the gates", Bjorn interrupted them, "There will be an attack from the river."

"The boats will be filled with men and means of scaling", Sansa told them, "We will beach on the far side from the bridge, between the towers, and scale the walls."

"In that case, Floki," Rollo finished, "You will be responsible to build whatever we need to scale these walls."

"Oh, don't you worry about me, Rollo", Floki smiled, "I will make something truly astonishing. Everyone agrees with the plan?"

Everyone in the tent murmured their agreement, before they dispersed.

* * *

In Kattegat, Thorunn was holding Siggy close. She watched as Aslaug was cooking at the cauldron. Arya and Gyda were wandering around in the room.

"Please take my daughter", Thorunn begged, "Raise her."

"Why that?" Aslaug asked in surprise.

"I cannot care for her", Thorunn told her, "I want her to be like your sons - I want her to be Viking."

"What does it matter, how you call someone?" Aslaug asked, "What is important is that you love and nurture her, so she may grow up and give you grandchildren to be proud of. Think about Bjorn – He loves you."

"Bjorn will be far happier without me", Thorunn muttered, "That is what I believe."

* * *

In the Viking camp outside of Paris, Bjorn walked up to the workshop where several women were sewing together large planes of canvas, forming a new sail. He looked around for a moment, then he approached Torvi. She came to him and they met a little outside the workshop.

"Forgive me, Torvi", Bjorn said, "I should have spoken before."

"Why?" Torvi asked.

"You know why", Bjorn insisted.

"I am not with child", Torvi told him, "Nor am I a child."

"I took advantage of you", Bjorn pointed out.

"So did I", Torvi smiled, "Nothing to be sorry."

Bjorn put his hand in his pocket and drew a brooch from it, which he handed to Torvi.

"This is for you", he said, before he walked away.

Torvi stood there, staring at the point where Bjorn had disappeared between the tents, as Erlendur stepped behind her.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Nothing", Torvi said. Erlendur grabbed her hand and violently pried the brooch from her fingers.

"This is far too good for you", Erlendur spat, "Whore!"

* * *

Night had fallen over the camp, as Sansa was sitting on a hill, overlooking the city. Paris was dark, Sansa could just barely see it against the sky. Only on the towers, there were fires burning.

It _did_ remind her of King's Landing. The high walls, the ramparts, the river, it actually looked somehow similar. She remembered clearly, how frightened she had been, when the army of Stannis Baratheon was about to breech the gates. Most likely, the inhabitants of Paris felt pretty much the same.

"It's beautiful, isn't it", she heard Ragnar behind her.

"Yes it is", Sansa agreed, "It's a pity, it will not look so beautiful, once we've scaled the walls."

"Do you think, we will succeed?" Ragnar wanted to know.

Sansa stared into the black night for a moment. "No", she whispered.

"Why not?" Ragnar asked smiling.

"The plan is as good, as any I can think of", Sansa mused, "But I can't quite shake this feeling that we will not succeed... not without a long siege."

* * *

In the evening, Count Odo was in a private audience with the Emperor and his daughter.

"The Northmen have been scouting the country and our defenses", Count Odo reported, "We must expect an attack any day now."

"Gisela, I regret not sending you to safety in time", the Emperor addressed his daughter, "Forgive me, there is much on my mind."

"I would not want to be sent away, father", Gisela told him, "But I must tell you, I've been much about the city. The people of Paris are frightened to death by this pagan army. So far, only their firm belief in god's grace and protection keeps them from becoming hysterical and violent."

"I am aware of the need to pacify and control the population, thank you, princess", Count Odo answered, "Perhaps you need to reassure them yourself that we are well provisioned with supplies."

"You may rely on me to do all I can for our victory", Gisela replied, "Yet it is for my father to lead us to victory."

* * *

Helga was walking to the shipyard, where Floki was working. In her hands, she carried a basked.

"You must be hungry", she said, "I've brought you something to eat."

"My work nourishes me", Floki replied from the top of a strange wooden structure.

"Pull again", he advised one of his aides, "It needs to be more on an angle."

He climbed down and stood in front of Helga.

"There's passion in me!" he declared, "Floki the boat builder – Floki the tower-maker!"

He looked up to his work with pride, then became humble again.

"But of course, it's not me, making these towers", he explained, "It's the gods, using my poor hands. Do you know why, Helga? I appeased them, I delighted them. I gave them a great sacrifice, do you know what I did, Helga?"

Helga shook her head.

"I killed Athelstan", Floki rejoiced. Helga ran away in shock.

* * *

A couple of days later, Sansa was getting a new tattoo. She was sitting on a barrel, while another shield maiden who was known to be skilled with paint and nail was working on her face. Her left temple was already depicting the serpent Jormungandr, winding itself between the two braids she wore. Her right temple was now depicting the head of the giant wolf Fenrir, the twin of Jormungandr, the eldest sons of Loki. It was done with so much skill, that Sansa's braids on her right temple matched with the image of the fur, creating an image as if the neck of the wolf was her own.

"You didn't need to get a tattoo on your face", Ragnar told her as it was done, "You are pretty enough."

"A raven calls a crow a black bird", Sansa smiled as she stood up, "Of all people, you're not the one to nag me about tattoos on the head."

"Fair enough", Ragnar admitted, "Are you done? We need to get down to Floki."

They walked towards the shipyard, where Floki was working. Kalf and Erlendur followed them. Bjorn stopped sharpening his axe, when he saw them walk by and joined them.

* * *

Rollo had taken his tunic off, training with his men. They were the berserkers, extraordinarily strong and fearless. Instead of wearing armor, they often chose to fight with their chests bare, their heads covered with the skulls and furs of wolves and bears.

Two of the berserkers were hacking away with their axes at each other, when Rollo went in between. He shoved them both to the ground and stood there, when he saw the others march by.

"Carry on", he ordered as he joined the procession of the leaders. They walked on, picking up Sinric, Lagertha and Earl Siegfird as they went along and finally ended up at Floki's shipyard. They walked through the woods, seeing rope ladders spanning between the trees.

Finally, they stood together at the bottom of a high wooden tower, with Floki on top. Other towers were already drifting in the water, built upon rafts.

"Everything ready, Floki?" Ragnar asked.

"Everything is ready", Floki giggled on his tower, "Tomorrow, we attack Paris!"

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 _A/N: So, in the next chapter we see the attack on Paris. You will notice I'm fleshing out the whole Paris-plotline a little more. I always believed that two attempts at attacking such a city are not enough during a long siege, so there will be a little more action involved._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	30. To the Gates!

_A/N: Vikings Season 3! Here it is, the big attack on Paris!  
_

 ** _Thank you for your reviews! As well as all those who follow or favorited this story!  
_**

 _The attack on Paris will take up the whole chapter... the aftermath will be sectioned to the next one!  
_

 _ **Warning: Graphical violence...** (kinda goes without saying)_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of Thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 **Chapter 30 To the Gates!**

The sun broke through the morning mist, and awoke the few that were still asleep in the Viking Camp. Most had already gotten up during the night, sharpening the edges on their swords and axes, although they had done so before. The archers rechecked the feathers on their arrows and packed reserve bowstrings in their pockets.

Sansa had been asleep during most of the night. Having the experience of several long campaigns, she knew that exhaustion was likely to cost more lives on this day, than the actual skill of the defenders. So she, Bjorn, Ragnar and the others had tried to get enough sleep, although they left their cots early as well.

* * *

As the fog over the camp cleared, it began to fill with activity. Women were getting water to cook the last meal before the battle, warriors shifted their gear on their shoulders, looking for the most comfortable fit. Others were loading the ships with throwing axes, bundles of arrows and spare oars while some were coiling up the ropes, lying loose on the decks.

Sansa was balancing over a plank from one ship to one further out into the river. Torvi and others were fastening shields to the ship's walls, while Helga was stowing away arrows. Sansa put her shield in the middle of the deck to the others, then began to fasten one of the loose ropes.

* * *

Rollo and his berserkers were preparing themselves for battle as well. They had already taken off their shirts, some were wearing wild animal's heads over their own heads. They screamed and clapped their axes against their shields, creating the sound of war.

Ragnar watched as Bjorn walked by, several other warriors following him. He took his sword from the weapons rack, hid Athelstan's cross underneath his jacket and walked towards the ships as well.

Waiting for everyone else to be ready, Sansa unsheathed her sword once more, checking for dents and nicks on the blade. Satisfied when she found nothing, she took it in her hand, doing a couple of test swings, before she put it back into the sheath. She repeated the process with her axes and finally her dagger.

As everything was ready, the ships were cast away from the bank. They were rowing upstream towards Paris. Ragnar and Bjorn were in one ship, Rollo and Sansa in another one. The men around them worked hard against the current, closing steadily in on the city.

* * *

At the same time, the force led by Lagertha and Kalf appeared in front of the gate to the bridge. They both tried to be the one to lead, yet they did the same things at the same time. As they marched towards the city, a couple of merchants and farmers who had been still outside the gate fled into the city, their rear guarded by Franish soldiers. Finally the gate closed and the last farmers were trapped outside.

Lagertha had drawn her sword and signaled for a halt, when a volley of bolts was shot from the guardhouse.

"Bring the cage and the ram!" she ordered. From the rear of the force, several men dragged a wooden pavilion forward, while others carried the ram. They stepped forward and stopped there.

"Archers! Cover us!" Lagertha ordered, "Wait for my signal!"

* * *

The bells of Paris were ringing loudly, as the ships were moving into arm of the river. In between, the rafts with the towers were towed. Sansa glanced nervously over to Bjorn, who looked up to the walls in skepticism.

On a nod from Ragnar, Floki took the big horn and blew it, signaling to Lagertha's force the beginning of the attack.

* * *

On a signal from Lagertha, the warriors moved forward, reaching the gate in a few seconds. The archers shot their arrows at the guardhouse on top of the gate, trying to score a hit amongst the defenders.

Several of the men were striking the ram hard against the wooden gate, to no avail so far.

"Harder!" Lagertha ordered.

* * *

The towers had been pushed to the walls. The warriors jumped from their ships, some swimming to the towers, others wading through shallow water. Others had laid out planks from the ships to the towers and in between the towers and moved to the walls under a hail of arrows, stones and bolts.

Many were screaming at the defenders, others were holding up their shields, trying to protect themselves from the arrows.

"Move!" Sansa yelled at the warriors in her ship. One after the other moved to the towers, Sansa right in between. Rollo was already there, and Floki and Bjorn dismounted from the other ship. Ragnar himself stayed behind a little to overlook the progress they were making.

One of the berserkers was standing right next to Rollo in the shallow water. He was wearing a vest of fur and a wolf's pelt over his head. As he was hit by a bolt in the shoulder, he looked down at it in awe, as if he didn't feel the pain. He laughed loudly at the defenders on the walls, until he was silenced by a bolt penetrating his skull.

* * *

The northmen at the gate were frustrated by their lack of progress. The metal-coated wooden door did not move at all.

"Stop!" Kalf ordered, "Erlendur, bring the tools!"

Erlendur nodded and two of his warriors brought forward the tools he had made especially for this raid. Long iron spikes with barbs, as long as a man. On the back end, the spikes were flattened like a chisel and had rings forged to it to pull.

Two warriors held the spiked end up against the gate, others were hammering from behind. Steadily, the iron spikes began to punch through the gate.

* * *

They had reached the walls, now the leaders were urging their warriors to climb up on the towers. Several fell down back into the water, as they were hit with bolts. Viking archers were standing on the beached ships and between the towers, covering their own warriors and trying to hit the defenders on the walls.

"UP! All of you!" Sansa ordered as the men climbed. She looked over to Bjorn, who was also urging the men upward. She staggered back a little, when a bolt missed her only by a little and disappeared in the water at her feet. Sansa looked around. Bjorn had also been lightly hit, a small cut on his temple, he probably hadn't even noticed. Nothing to worry.

* * *

Floki was enthusiastic about the progress. He was running around between the warriors, giggling, as if the bolts were unable to touch him.

"Why are you hiding behind your shields?" he called, "The gods are with us!"

* * *

Princess Gisela watched as the monk unrolled a red banner with golden stitching on it.

"This is the oriflamme, the sacred banner of Saint-Denis", he explained, "The cloth was bathed in his blood."

"Martyr's blood", the princess murmured, "In defense of this, you and all of your order would gladly die?"

"We would", the monk answered firmly.

"And so it will be, for all of Paris", the princess told him.

* * *

Enough warriors had climbed onto the towers to begin the next stage of the assault. The ropes were cut and drawbridges were lowered, ending right on top of the battlements. The northmen swarmed over the bridges and mixed with the Frankish warriors, cutting many of them down.

Just as the Vikings were about to gain the ramparts, Sansa could watch a Frankish woman step up on the tower to her right. Behind the woman, a red flag was pulled up.

"Soldiers of Paris!" Princess Gisela addressed them, "We hold the Oriflamme! We hold the sacred banner of Saint-Denis! We hold the sacred banner of Frankia! Fight On! Fight to the death! For Frankia!"

The defenders that had already begun to give in to the Viking assault regained their strength and resisted harder than before.

"Prepare the oil!" Count Odo ordered.

* * *

The Vikings at the gate cheered, as the spikes found no resistance any more. The men turned them, causing the barbs to bite deeply into the wood.

"Siegfried!" Kalf called towards the additional force a little away from the gate, "The horses!"

On a command from Earl Siegfrid, two horses were brought forward. They were armored with chainmail and leather and between them, a wooden pole was dangling.

"Kalf, the ropes!" Siegfried reminded him. Several of the warriors hooked thick ropes to the rings on the tools, before they set out towards Earl Siegfrid. They ran, two men on each rope. Bolts were shot at them, many missing them, until finally one was struck in the back, causing him to drop to the ground. The other man carried the rope on, until they reached the horses, where the two ropes were quickly tied to the wooden pole.

"Pull!" Lagertha and Kalf ordered, as the horses began to pull on the ropes. Several warriors joined in and began to pull on the iron spikes.

They all shuddered for a moment, when the cage was hit by heavy rocks, dropped from the guardhouse. Luckily, the cage was holding up.

* * *

"Climb!" Sansa ordered the warriors, "Up the ladders!"

She dodged, when another dead body was falling down right next to her.

Rollo was screaming at others as well. When one man refused to move, standing at the bottom of the ladder, he cut him down swiftly with his two-handed axe.

"Valhalla is that way!" Bjorn encouraged the others, pointing up the ladder.

Floki was wandering around between the towers. He had stopped giggling, now he was staring at the growing heaps of dead bodies, lying on the raft or drifting in the water.

They all watched as a crane was brought out over one of the towers, holding a large bowl. A flood of oil was released, soaking the tower and everyone on it. Sansa had to stumble backwards to avoid the dripping liquid.

One of the Frankish archers drew his bow and loosened an arrow with a flaming head. Within seconds, the tower was aflame. Warriors with burning clothes saw no other way, than to drop into the water.

Sansa was staggering back as the heat hit her from a short distance. She could feel the heat on her skin, singing her eyebrows and making her eyes water. Instinctively, Sansa dropped on her back, causing her to fall into the water.

Gasping for air, Sansa came back to the surface of the river. She had dropped her shield during her fall, but her axe and her sword were still firmly fastened to her belt. Sansa swam over to the next tower, where Bjorn helped her out of the water and onto the raft.

"Are you hurt?" he asked.

"I'm alright", Sansa told him, "But my eyebrows will need growing…"

* * *

In the cage at the gate, the heavy boulders were finally too much for the cage and broke through the roof, smashing limbs underneath. Other warriors were killed, as the franks shot a volley of arrows though the hole in the cage.

Back with the horses, Earl Siegfrid began to pull on the ropes himself. Slowly, the gate began to move, breaking the wooden bar which locked the gate. The warriors cheered, as the doors swung open, only to be greeted by an empty hallway.

The warriors charged forward, led by Erlendur, seeing their way into the city open. Lagertha and Kalf followed slowly, fearing an ambush. The charging warriors came to a halt, when the bridge ended in front of their feet, leaving a gap to the wall.

"Lagertha, stop!" Kalf warned her as the drawbridge on the city's wall opened.

"What?" she asked hotly.

"Stop!" he told her, before he punched her in the face, knocking the shield maiden right out. Kalf grabbed the unconscious Lagertha and dragged her backwards, away from the gate.

In this moment, the drawbridge came down, revealing a group of Frankish crossbowmen, grouped around a large wooden shield. In the shield, there were several crossbow-like segments integrated, each shooting a bolt as big as a normal spear.

The Viking shield wall was quickly shot to pieces and the remaining Vikings turned and retreated from the bridge and out of the gatehouse, the franks shooting at the fleeing.

* * *

Ragnar was watching passively as the franks repelled attack after attack. Half a dozen of towers were burning by now, the dead and wounded in the water too many to count.

Rollo was still encouraging the others to climb the ladders, when his glance fell upon Princess Gisela, standing proudly on the city walls. She inspires them, he realized. Shoving another warrior aside, he began to climb up the ladder on a partially burning tower.

Bjorn and Sansa were also urging the warriors upward. Their eyes locked and Sansa shook her head slightly, just enough for Bjorn to notice. They were not suceeding. He raised his eyebrow in a silent question and Sansa nodded. They had to do somethig about it. She took a hold of the ladder and began to climb, while Bjorn did the same at the other side of the tower.

* * *

As he saw his children and brother climb up the ladders, Ragnar was finally awoken from his passiveness. He jumped from the ship into the water and waded over to the towers.

Bjorn and Sansa were almost on top of the ladders, when the warrior climbing below Bjorn was hit by an arrow to the shoulder. He fell off the ladder, but Bjorn instinctively reached out and the man grabbed his sleeve. He swung the man towards the ladder, so he could get his own grip again.

But the warrior was scared and not able to let go of Bjorn's sleeve, clinging to it instead of holding on to the ladder. Bjorn could already feel his own grip loosening from the additional weight.

"Drop him", Sansa urged, "Or he will pull you down."

Bjorn hesitated for a second, then realized that Sansa was right. He shook his hand violently, jerking it free from the wounded warrior's grip. The warrior fell down to the bottom of the ladder with a scream.

Just as the man crashed onto the raft, Ragnar appeared at the bottom of the ladder, smiling encouragingly at Bjorn and Sansa, before he began to climb the ladder himself.

* * *

Rollo had reached the ramparts and began hacking at the defenders with his large axe. With every chop, one of the franks fell, but always a new one took his predecessor's place.

Bjorn had drawn his axe as he jumped over the ramparts. A couple of hacks were sufficient to drive the first Frankish soldier back and his way was open. He jumped and was on the wall.

Bjorn leaped forward, tackling the soldier that was standing in Sansa's way to the ground. He buried his axe in his throat, while Sansa stepped onto the wall behind him.

As she moved, Sansa was holding her throwing axe in her right hand and drew the dagger with her left. She hacked with her axe at a frank, penetrating his helmet with the beard on her axe, then stepped forward and thrust her dagger into the next frank's throat.

Ragnar had a little free space, when he reached the ramparts. He jumped and landed on both feet. A Frankish soldier came at him, shield and sword in his hands. Ragnar stepped aside, avoiding the thrust, before burying the axe in his opponent's belly. He spun around, hitting another French soldier in his lower back.

Rollo was shoving several franks back with the handle of his axe, while he was still standing on the assault tower, leaning over the battlements. He looked sideways, past his brother and his eyes caught the French princess, standing still on the tower. He was distracted for a short moment, until he was struck in the chest by a wooden pole.

He regained his footing at the ladder, but now the Frankish soldiers began to push against the ladder with the pole. Rollo tried to hit them with his axe, but they were out of his reach. They pushed further and finally, Rollo lost his footing and fell off the tower, into the water below.

Bjorn had just pulled his axe out of a dead frank's body, as Ragnar tackled another one to the floor right next to him. The Frankish soldier dropped his sword and Ragnar quickly retrieved it, before sinking it into the frank's belly.

Sansa deflected a thrust with her axe, causing the sword to grind along the marble of the city walls. Twisting her upper body around, the dagger in her left hand made it behind the frank's shield and she stabbed him into the eye. The Frankish soldier went down with a loud scream, while Sansa saw another frank charge at her from her right side. She whirled her axe around, hitting the running soldier right in the chest.

Bjorn had punched a Frankish soldier with his free hand, before he let his axe connect with the back of his neck. A loud crack assured him, that he had done sufficient damage. Thrusting his axe upwards, he hit a Frankish soldier in the groin, causing the frank to stagger back. Another one charged at him. Bjorn let his axe come down on the elbow of his sword arm, severing the arm at the joint.

Ragnar had just pulled a leg out from underneath a Frankish soldier, when another frank grappled his jacket from behind. The first frank came back on his feet, while Ragnar was struggling, and soon, he was fighting against four hands. Then he looked up and over the city, the first time, since he had reached the wall.

Athelstan was right, Ragnar thought, he had never seen anything like it before. Large houses of stone, surrounding churches higher and even from outside more beautiful than anything he had ever seen in England. Ragnar was caught up in this moment, until the Frankish soldiers kept grappling at him.

Dropping his axe to the floor, Ragnar screamed loudly at them, before he jumped backwards, leaping over the edge of the wall. His back hit the side of an assault tower, where it was cowered in deer hide. He bounced off and was thrown against the city wall as he fell down. Finally, he came to rest at the bottom of the assault tower, amongst the dead. Ragnar looked up at the sky, before his eyes closed.

* * *

Bjorn was hacking at a Frankish soldier, burying his axe deep in his belly, before he pulled it back out. Spinning around, he hit another frank with the handle of his axe on the head, causing the helmet to fly away from his head. Bjorn swiftly split his skull with a single strike. He deflected an incoming sword to his left, before punching the frank in the chest with his right elbow. A quick slash to the throat finished him off.

Sansa sidestepped a sword thrusted at her chest, while hooking the frank's head under her axe. She stabbed her dagger into his throat and let him slide to the floor. Whirling around, her axe hit another frank right in the face, before she sunk her dagger into a third opponent. Ducking under a sword, Sansa came up in between the Frankish soldier and his shield. Without hesitation, she thrusted her dagger upwards, cutting through the jaw in a swift motion.

Bjorn had just buried his axe in a crossbowman, whom he had tackled to the ground, when another Frankish soldier came up behind him.

Sansa looked up and saw the Frankish soldier prepare to swing his sword at Bjorn's back, likely going to kill him. She quickly aimed, then threw her axe. The axe cut right through the frank's face, killing him instantly. Bjorn looked at her and nodded slightly in appreciation, while Sansa drew her sword.

After Sansa had saved him, Bjorn turned around to fight in the other direction, hacking away at shields and swords alike. A crossbowman fell with his face split, another frank tried to stab him with his sword. Bjorn hacked away at the blade with his axe, deflecting it, before he closed in on his opponent and headbutted him.

Sansa slashed at a frank's chest, before she had to deflect a blow against herself. Severing a Frankish leg, she brought her sword upwards again, before she sidestepped and stabbed another frank in his belly with her dagger.

Bjorn was stepping on the ramparts, bringing his axe down at a Frankish warrior in a high arc, as he was struck in the back by a bolt. His body tensed as the sharp point tore through his jacket and into his flesh. He staggered for a moment, then slashed another frank's throat, before he was hit a second time, close to the first bolt.

* * *

Sansa watched in shock, as her adopted brother lost his balance and fell over the edge of the wall, two bolts in his back. She woke up from her shock, when another Frankish soldier charged at her. Sansa deflected his slash with her sword, before swinging it around, nearly taking his head off.

The body fell against her, causing Sansa to stumble. She twisted and it fell at her feet. Sansa punched another Frankish soldier with the pommel of her sword, before whirling around and sinking her dagger in the back of a third.

One Frankish crossbowman, bigger even than Rollo, managed to pin her against the wall behind her back. His hands closed around her throat and Sansa could already feel her head become light. Her dagger dropped from her fingers and her sword was too long to handle it in this limited space.

With her final strength, Sansa kneed the frank in the groin, causing the tall man to crumble, what enabled Sansa to cut his head off with her sword. Panting, she stood there on the walls, hoping that her vision, which had become slightly blurry for lack of air, cleared.

While she was waiting for her vision to clear, she noticed the large amount of dead, lying all over the walls. Dead franks and Northmen alike. But from the towers outside the wall, only scarcely another Northman climbed up, and only about a dozen were on the wall, fighting. They were heavily outnumbered by the franks.

Sansa stepped on the battlement, carefully, then she came to a decision. She whistled on her fingers.

"FALL BACK!" she ordered, before turning around and jumping on a partially burning tower.

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 _A/N: I changed the plan for the attack slightly. If you watch closely in the original episode, the attacking fleet enters the arm of the river, in which the bridge is. That is not the smartest thing._

 _Firstly, they screwed slightly up, giving the Paris in the show only one bridge. In reality, there were at least three at that time. If you watch closely, you can see that they cannot be hidden and invisible, these other bridges are simply missing._

 _More importantly, attacking from the river next to the bridge and the gate offers the defenders more advantages than the attackers: Reinforcements can be shifted between the walls and the gate relatively easy, as well as the commanders that can easily keep overlooking both battles, on the defender's side. In the meantime, the river keeps the Vikings from redirecting their forces._

 _If now the wall on the other side of the city than the gate is attacked, reinforcements and commanders have to cross the whole city, each time they want to participate in the other battle. Although, the Vikings never before attacked such a strongly defended city, Ragnar, Rollo and Lagertha are experienced commanders, who likely would have planned it like this. Even with Floki officially in command, they would have made slight adjustments to the plans…_

 _I hope you liked it!  
_

 _Don't forget to review!_


	31. Breaking Point

_A/N: Vikings Season 3!  
_

 ** _Thank you for your reviews! As well as all those who follow or favorited this story!  
_**

 _I decided to split this episode and add the aftermath of the first attack to the next episode. Since I am vastly expanding the plot during the siege, it fits better that way. And I always had the feeling that the second half of the episode "To the Gates!" should have been put together with most of the "Breaking Point" episode._

 _ **Warning: Graphical violence...** (kinda goes without saying)_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of Thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

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 **Chapter 31 Breaking Point**

The first thing that Ragnar felt was pain. His back, his ribcage, his arms and legs were throbbing with pain. He opened his eyes. All around him was death, the smell of death and smoke filled the air. He coughed up some blood that had accumulated in his mouth after he had bitten into his tongue during his impact. He spat it out and sat up.

He held his ribcage, trying to assess the damage. Three, no four cracked ribs. Seriously enough. Carefully, he stepped over a Viking body and hid from the soldiers on the walls. Then his glance landed on the back of a head that seemed awfully familiar to him.

Ragnar stepped closer and saw Bjorn lying amongst the dead, his eyes empty, two bolts sticking in his back. Fearing the worst, he held him close. Ragnar held his hand close to Bjorn's nose. Thank the gods, he thought. He's alive. If only by a small margin.

* * *

Sansa walked back into the camp. She had been the last one to give commands up on the wall, and her last command had been to retreat. She didn't even want to imagine the prize they had paid. All she knew, was that her father and her brother were definitely wounded, likely dead, considering that they had both fallen off the wall.

"Sansa", Kalf greeted her on the way back, "Where is King Ragnar?"

"I don't know", Sansa admitted, "Maybe he's dead. How is it possible that you don't have any blood on your clothes?"

"It was an ambush", Kalf told her, "They just kept shooting at us, until we had no choice but to fall back. We never got close enough to kill anyone."

"How bad?" Sansa asked, while Kalf handed her a horn of ale, which Sansa downed thirstily.

"We lost maybe a hundred men, the same number is wounded", Kalf reflected, "Erlendur has a nasty cut on his eye, he may lose it yet. I had to knock Lagertha out, dragging her back to save her life. Earl Siegfrid is alright though."

* * *

Floki was still hiding inside one of the burning assault towers.

"Harsh are the gods", he reflected, "Why did you betray me? I loved you, I performed great sacrifices, and I gave you half of my best goods. Don't piss in my mouth, you gods!"

He quickly drew his knife and held it at his throat, ready to cut, yet still hesitating.

"You poor fool, Floki", he said to himself, "You're insane."

In this moment, the burning body of a warrior broke through the wood and landed at Floki's feet.

* * *

The Frankish Emperor Charles was standing at the inner gate, looking over the dead northmen, lying all along the bridge. Next to him, the city's garrison commander, Count Odo was standing.

"Now that I see them up close", the Emperor commented, "They seem so much less frightening than I supposed. Indeed they appear _almost_ human."

* * *

Shortly thereafter, the emperor was entering the cathedral, at his side Count Odo and Roland, the deputy commander. The bishop was holding a service to thank god for the defense of Paris. Following the emperor and Count Odo, Princess Gisela entered the Cathedral, carrying the Oriflamme. She placed the banner at the altar, before turning to her father.

"Your Imperial Highness is to be congratulated for the brave and stout defense of our city", she declared, "All Hail the Emperor!"

* * *

In Kattegat, Thorunn was standing alone in the dark. She had her sword on her belt, a little silver in her pockets and her cloak around her. She took a final look over the town and the bay, before she took a deep breath and began to walk.

* * *

Ragnar was dragging Bjorn back through the camp. He passed a long line of other wounded, each on their way back to the camp. Erlendur was lying a short distance away from the King's tent, Torvi had pressed a heated blade against his temple to clean the wound that an arrow had left there.

Helga was caring for one of those, who had been heavily burned, when Ragnar dragged Bjorn by. Finally, Ragnar reached the tent, where he found Sansa, staring into nothing.

"Father!" she exclaimed, "You're alive. I couldn't find you."

"I'm alive", Ragnar agreed, "And so is Bjorn. Barely. Make me some space on the table."

Sansa quickly picked the things from the table, and Ragnar placed Bjorn carefully on the table.

* * *

A short while later, a healing woman was examining him, when Lagertha entered the tent.

"Is he alive?" she asked, "Is my son dying?"

The healing woman could only shrug. "I don't know."

"What happened?" Lagertha asked Ragnar, the blame in her voice obvious.

"He was proving that you don't need a title to be a leader", Ragnar shot back as Rollo entered the tent.

"I should never have let him climb that ladder", Rollo stated, "Now he may day."

"Both of you, stop treating him like a child", Ragnar interrupted, "He's a man. Let him be one."

"Today, we came so close", Rollo reminded them, "Next time, we will not make the same mistakes."

Watching the healing woman work, Lagertha sat down on a chair, next to Sansa.

"Are you alright, Sansa?" she asked. Sansa nodded.

"A sprained ankle, a few cuts and bruises", she shrugged, "I'll live."

"That is good to hear", Lagertha smiled weakly, "But what happened to your hair?"

Sansa touched it, only to find some of her hair missing.

"I singed it on one of the towers, I guess", she smiled, "When I saw Bjorn fall over that edge, with these bolts in his back, I was sure he would be dead by the time I saw him next."

* * *

Later that evening, Lagertha was sitting in her own tent. She had taken off her battle dress and was now washing the blood and dirt from her body. Kalf entered the tent and took the rag from her hands.

"How are you?" he asked.

"Alive", Lagertha stated.

Kalf dipped the rag in the bucket with water and began to wash Lagertha's shoulders.

"You want to hate me, but you can't", he stated, "All I know is that I desire you, with all my heart. I want to be with you…"

Kalf began planting kisses along Lagertha's shoulder.

"Why should I believe you?" Lagertha asked, looking deep in his eyes.

"I could have let you die", Kalf reminded her, "It would actually have solved most of my problems."

"What if I accept what you have to say?" Lagertha asked standing up and turning towards him, "What if I agree to be with you? But I will never forgive you for usurping my earldom. And one day, I will kill you."

Kalf looked at her in surprise, until Lagertha began to plant a row of soft kisses all over Kalf's breast.

"If you accept that condition", Lagertha murmured, "Then let us be together and enjoy each other."

She stepped back, looking questioningly at Kalf. He hesitated for a second, ten stepped towards Lagertha and kissed her hungrily.

* * *

Ragnar was taking a piss just outside the tent. He looked down at the puddle, not liking what he saw. The urine had red mixed in it, blood that had seeped into his bladder.

As he reentered the tent, Bjorn opened his eyes.

"You see, you should never have called me that", he smiled weakly.

"Called you what?" Ragnar inquired.

"Ironside", Bjorn said, "As if the gods were protecting me."

"You're alive", Sansa reminded him, "Today we both deserve our nicknames."

"I get why you're called 'bloody-hair'", Bjorn smirked, "But, sweet sister, you should wash that blood off. Your face is darker red than your hair."

"I will", Sansa smiled, "But I needed to see you wake up first."

"The day went badly", Bjorn reflected.

"Yes it did", Ragnar agreed, "You led today. Both of you."

"I only did, what my instincts told me to do", Bjorn told Ragnar.

"Well, that is a start", Ragnar smiled, before he left the tent.

* * *

Two weeks had passed since the failed assault on the city. The Viking army was still licking its wounds, although many of the wounded had almost healed.

Many seats in the commander's tent remained empty at their meetings. Floki kept to himself, Bjorn and Ragnar had still not recovered. Several of the minor Earls had died, either during the attack or in the following days, due to the wounds they had sustained.

"Do we have a new plan to attack?" Rollo asked.

"Earl Siegfrid and 200 of his warriors are still holding the outposts, near to the bridge", Kalf told them, "That way, supplies are not able to enter the city. They will soon starve."

"But just starving them to death will take too long", Erlendur added, "We will need to attack again. In the meantime, we can ask for their capitulation."

"How would you do that?" Rollo wanted to know.

"Sansa, did you not mention a monastery you found during these scouting trips?" Erlendur recalled, "A little to the south of the city?"

"Yes, not that far from the city", Sansa told him.

"I suggest we raid the monastery, take the gold, and use one of the monks to deliver our message", Erlendur proposed.

"If everyone agrees, I will suggest this plan to Ragnar", Rollo told them. Everyone nodded.

* * *

Two days later, Erlendur returned with two dozen hostages and a vast amount of gold, silver and gems.

"Sinric, tell one of the monks, he is to go to Paris", Kalf said, "He shall ask them to open their gates, otherwise, we will kill the others."

Sinric spoke shortly with a young monk. Finally, one of the warriors guided the frightened monk through the Viking lines and into the no man's land in between the siege trenches and the guardhouse.

* * *

They all watched, as the guards let the frightened monk pass. He entered the city, while some of the Viking warriors were constructing gallows for the other monks, well out of the range of the crossbows from the guardhouse of course.

Three hours passed without any event, Kalf became impatient. Two warriors tied the first one of the monks up, then hanged him from the gallows. There was no reaction from the city. Every passing hour, another monk was added to the row of dead monks.

"That was probably not the most effective idea", Sansa stated as they all waited for a reaction from the city.

* * *

Count Odo and his deputy, Roland were watching from the guardhouse, as the monks were killed. Princess Gisela had also left the island and had joined them, guarded by a dozen soldiers.

"These barbarians", the Princess stated, "Don't they have any respect for god?"

"They're pagans", Count Odo reminded them, "They worship false gods. Your great-grandfather, the blessed Emperor Charlemagne, once vowed that he would either convert or kill every pagan in the world."

"Unfortunately, there were too many, even for him", Roland added, "And now we have to deal with them."

In this moment, a group of Vikings charged at the guardhouse, trying to take the guards in surprise. Princess Gisela watched, as Count Odo and Roland drew their swords and joined the soldiers.

* * *

Kalf and Erlendur were leading their men against the gate. The guards had left the gate open and were standing directly under the guardhouse. Only in the last moment, Count Odo gave a signal and they threw the gate shut, causing the Vikings to run in full force against the wooden doors.

Kalf grunted in frustration. This had been his plan entirely, hoping for a surprise attack on the gate.

* * *

Count Odo had returned to the guard tower, where he found the princess.

"Princess, you should return to the city", he urged her.

"I will not run away from these pagans", Gisela answered bravely, "I am sure, you will hold the gate."

The soldiers in the guardhouse had begun to shoot their crossbows at the attackers. Some dropped stones, others lobbed small bottles of oil.

* * *

Sansa was in the rear of the attacking force. Since she had not been entirely optimistic about the idea of a surprise attack, she had not wanted to lead the assault. She watched as one after the other of the warriors were hit.

"Shield wall!" she ordered and the warriors grouped around her, holding their shields together, protecting each other.

"Now!" Count Odo ordered one of the archers. He held the tip of his arrow in a campfire, until the cloth on the tip began to burn. The archer drew his bow, aimed carefully and loosened his arrow.

Sansa and most of the others staggered back, when the shield wall was hit by the flaming arrow. Although it was only one shot, it hit a shield, which had been hit by an oil-filled bottle. The fire quickly spread over the whole front of the shield wall.

Sansa felt the heat radiate through her clothes and turned away, somehow able to keep her shield in between her and the defender's bolts. Many were not so lucky, their shields and clothes were burning. The shield wall broke and frightened men were running all over the place. The franks wasted no time, shooting at the fleeing.

* * *

Two days later, the rain began to fall. And went on seemingly forever. With every passing day, morale in the Viking camp was sinking steadily.

Each day, one or two of the men would get hit by the Frankish crossbowmen, others were lost in the skirmishes or scouting parties through the country.

Ragnar was still ill, pissing blood regularly, with no indication of getting better. Bjorn had finally began to recover, now he was strong enough to get up from his bed.

Sansa looked up from her bowl of soup, she was eating in Lagertha's tent. The rain was pounding heavily against the canvas and the soup was at least warm.

"How do you do it?" Sansa wanted to know, "Being a mother and a shieldmaiden?"

"I guess the same way as you", Lagertha smiled.

"I miss them so much", Sansa complained, "I barely saw them before we went to England and when we returned, they were starting to walk."

"If I remember correctly, you told me that you couldn't wait to get back to England", Lagertha recalled, "And it's the most natural thing to miss your children. But you should be glad you have them and that they aren't big enough yet to join in the raid and get hurt themselves."

* * *

After three days of rain, there was no dry place in the camp left. Tents and clothes were soaked, the paths had long turned to knee-deep mud. The supplies were also compromised, the bread turned to mush, the fruits and vegetables fouled and the grain in the stocks began to sprout.

Ragnar found Floki sitting naked on one of the rope ladders, spanning between the trees, where he had been building the assault towers.

"How's Bjorn?" Floki asked as Ragnar approached.

"Better", Ragnar muttered.

"I don't understand why we failed, Ragnar", Floki admitted, "I did everything to ensure our success."

"Never mind", Ragnar told him, "The others will try again tonight."

* * *

The rain had stopped for a little while, when Lagertha led half a dozen warriors towards the bank of the river. Silently, they waded into the water, swimming over the river under the cover of darkness. Finally, they reached the wooden pillars on which the bridge was standing.

Careful not to make any noise, the warriors climbed onto the bridge. They climbed through the windows, and emerged behind the back of a Frankish soldier. Lagertha slit his throat from behind and caught his body from falling. She guided him to the floor, careful not to make any noise.

Another warrior advanced and killed the second soldier in the middle of the bridge in the same manner. Careful, they made their way towards the guardhouse, intending to open the gates from the inside.

Several Frankish soldiers were standing in the opening right underneath the guardhouse. They had a fire to warm them and were all facing away from the city and the bridge. Lagertha and another warrior came up right behind two of them, cutting their throats. The other franks turned around and began to fight the Vikings, while the guards on the top floor of the guardhouse watched the attackers.

A bell was rung in alarm, as the fight began. The franks were cut down quickly. Lagertha turned around as she heard a loud scream. The soldiers on the top floor had poured oil from above, drenching one of the shield maidens. She screamed as the hot oil burned her skin before she fell to the ground.

* * *

Princess Gisela was walking towards a group of nuns. She handed a knife to each one of the frightened women.

"The antichrist and the devil are here", the princess told them, "I pray to God almighty, that they will not get in, but if they were to do so, make sure they don't get to you alive."

* * *

The drawbridge on the city wall opened and a group of Frankish crossbowmen emerged, firing straight along the bridge. Lagertha and the others were forced to seek cover behind the corners of the guardhouse.

As she stood there, hiding from the bolts that were passing her with only a few inches to spare, Lagertha realized, that they were not able to get to the gate, being pinned down both by the crossbowmen on the bridge as well as the soldiers on the top floor.

Desperately, Lagertha looked around, trying to find a way out of this dilemma. The gate is drenched in oil, she realized. Carefully, she pulled a burning piece of wood from the fire and threw it at the gate.

The flames licked high as the oil began to burn. Heat and smoke drove the soldiers on the top floor back, enabling Lagertha and another warrior to step towards the gate and unlock it.

* * *

Sansa and the others were hiding amongst the market stands, only a few meters outside the guardhouse. Rollo and the others were on the other side, hiding from the view of the defenders as well.

The big gate glowed in the dark, as the fire was shining through the night. Finally, it opened and Lagertha stepped out, waving at the others.

Screaming and roaring, Sansa, Rollo, Floki and all the others emerged from the market stands and charged at the gates. They ran along the undefended bridge towards the city wall.

* * *

Count Odo was standing amongst his soldiers, ready to fight, when he saw the charging northmen.

"Withdraw!" he ordered, bringing his men back behind the drawbridge.

* * *

Outside the gate, Earl Siegfrid grabbed Sinric on his arm.

"You're coming with us", he told the wanderer, "You're a map of the city."

* * *

The Vikings in the front stopped, when they saw what awaited them at the drawbridge. A large wheel was rolling towards them. It was as wide as the bridge and had big iron spikes all over. They turned around and ran, as the wheel rolled towards them.

Sansa turned around and ran as did everyone else. Nevertheless, the wheel was rolling to fast, soon it had caught up with several of the Vikings, crushing them underneath it and mortally wounding others.

Floki scrambled at the side, as the wheel overtook him, he was almost out of the window of the bridge. With only a few inches left, the spiked wheel passed right in front of him, when it stopped rolling. It had lost its momentum.

Sansa had been running fast, bumping into other warriors on her way back, off the bridge. As everyone began to calm down slowly, when the wheel stopped rolling, she stopped running.

Floki was still pressed against the wall, as he watched the wheel return towards the gate. Rollo had picked up one of Erlendur's tools and was walking towards the slowly withdrawing wheel.

Sansa stepped beside her uncle and watched in horror the bodies of the crushed warriors, sticking to the iron spikes. Some were even still alive, moaning slightly, while they were bleeding from two dozen wounds.

Rollo watched the wheel for a second, then he pushed Erlendur's tool through, so it lay on the other side. Carefully, he grabbed the spikes and began to climb over the wheel. On the other side, he picked the tool up and struck it into the wooden floor of the bridge, before resting it against one of the spikes on the wheel.

He's trying to block the wheel, Sansa thought. Carefully, she followed Rollo, climbing up on the wheel. As she reached the top, Floki handed her the second tool, which Sansa handed over to Rollo. With the wheel fixated in its position, the other warriors swarmed around the wheel and resumed their charge at the gate.

Rollo picked two axes from his belt and took one in each hand. Whirling around, he cut down the first Frankish soldier. Sansa had drawn her sword and slashed at a Frankish soldier's head. The blade glanced off the helmet, and his sword forced Sansa to duck. She retracted her sword and drove it into the frank's belly.

* * *

In the Viking Camp, Ragnar was feeling sick, as always since the first assault. He recognized a wave of nausea, and in the next time, he retched into the grass. Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he recognized the sour taste in his mouth, mixed with the metallic taste of blood. Pressing his hand at his belly, he fell on his back, exhausted.

* * *

Lagertha and Sansa fought side by side, both shield maidens covering each other. Earl Siegfrid was using his axe to shove a Frankish soldier to the ground, just in time that Sansa could kill him with a swift downward strike.

Rollo was spinning around, burying one axe in a frank's chest, while the other axe took another frank's leg off. Kalf climbed around the wheel, his sword in his hand and joined the fight.

* * *

The Frankish Emperor was kneeling in front of the altar, deep in his prayer, when Count Odo marched up to him.

"Your Highness, you have to come", he urged, "The northmen are almost inside the city."

"What can I do to stop them that the holy mother cannot do?" the Emperor asked, almost bored.

"The men are so hard pressed. So many dead, so many wounded that I can't count them", Count Odo reported, "But if you'd walk among them, it would restore their courage and strength."

"Does it not give them courage to see you?" Emperor Charles mocked, "You are their commander, after all."

"You are the Emperor", Count Odo replied, "We need all help we can get, if we want to hold the gate. I beg you, in the name of our holy mother, come with me to the gates."

"You cannot speak for her, Count Odo", Charles warned him.

"I never thought, I would have to plead", Count Odo admitted, "Not when you heard that our beloved city is in mortal danger."

* * *

Kalf had just killed a Frankish soldier, when another one snuck up on him from behind. Lagertha dropped her sword and grabbed a Frankish crossbow, lying on the floor. Aiming quickly, she shot at the soldier, who otherwise would have delivered a killing blow to Kalf's head. Kalf nodded gratefully towards Lagertha, then they both rejoined the battle.

Sansa was punching a frank with the pommel of her sword, before she stabbed the blade through his throat. Retracting it, she deflected an incoming sword and slashed her new opponent over the belly. Turning around, she hacked away at another frank, who blocked her swing. Sansa's sword glanced off, and she swung it again in a different direction, hitting the soldier's thigh.

Earl Siegfrid was standing at the very point of the assault, swinging his axe in big arcs, chopping down the Frankish soldiers.

Sansa, Rollo and Sinric joined Earl Siegfrid and several others in the space inside the city gate. They were cutting down the franks, one by one, trying to get through.

Floki was standing on the bridge, a little higher than the others. He had a better overview than those up front, and what he saw was devastating. Fresh Frankish soldiers arrived and reinforced the defenders.

"Rollo!" he called, "We can't get through!"

Rollo looked around for a second, then agreed.

"Fall back!" he ordered. He and the others ran to the bridge, just as the drawbridge was being pulled up. With a wide jump, they escaped the inner gate.

Sansa was amongst them, when a crossbow's bolt hit her on her hip, causing her legs to fold. Without being able to help herself, she watched as the drawbridge was pulled up, trapping her in the city.

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 _A/N: So, Sansa is trapped inside the city... that doesn't look too good for her!_

 _I hope I wrote the events of the siege realistic, not only fitting to the story, but like it would have really been. Siege warfare is mainly much boredom and labouring, interrrupted by scouting trips, skirmishes, assaults and defenders trying to break out. I hope I got this somehow realistic and enhanced to what we see in the episodes._

 _Of course, most of you have realized, that I cut the "Breaking Point" episode roughly in the middle as well. With the aftermath of the assault, the chapter just got long enough and I have plans for an additional chapter for the next one..._

 _The scene with the hanged monks is cruel, but realistic. About the things that are recorded about the historical siege of Paris in 845, led by "Regnerus" as the chronicles call him (usually he is identified as Ragnar Lothbrok), is that he hanged a number of monks in sight of the gates of Paris. Doing so on Easter Sunday, the Franks offered him money to go away. I am not sure, but I remember that the amount was recorded as 5,760 pounds of gold and silver..._

 _I hope you liked it and don't forget to review!_


	32. Chains of Events

_A/N: Vikings Season 3!  
_

 ** _Thank you for your reviews! As well as all those who follow or favorited this story!  
_**

 _This chapter will be the expanded second part of the 'Breaking Point' episode...  
_

 _ **Warning: Graphical violence...** (kinda goes without saying)_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of Thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 **Chapter 32 Chains of events**

Sansa watched as the drawbridge closed, lying on the ground. He bolt had entered her body, breaking the bone of her hip and her leg had crumbled underneath her.

Sinric was sitting on the wall, his hands raised in capitulation.

"Don't kill me!" he shouted, "I'm different."

A Frankish soldier had seen Sansa move and stepped towards her. In the same moment, Count Odo had brought his sword around Earl Siegfrid's head, ready to cut his throat.

"Don't kill them either!" Sinnric called, "They're important leaders!"

The frank kicked the sword away from Sansa's hand and Sansa and Earl Siegfrid were held by several soldiers.

* * *

Ragnar was still lying in the grass, trying to calm his stomach down and to regain his strength. He saw someone walk towards him in the light of the full moon, but he was unable to see the face, although the man's appearance seemed oddly familiar to him.

The man stepped closer, bending down to Ragnar and extending his hand towards him. As he bent down, Ragnar recognized the face.

"Athelstan", he murmured.

Ragnar weakly lifted his hand, trying to grab Athelstan's hand. But all he felt was air, and Athelstan was suddenly gone. Ragnar looked at his empty hand, and it seemed to him, that it was covered in blood.

Startled, he drew his hand back, only to find a puddle of blood surrounding him. He lay there for a moment.

"Don't abandon me", he pleaded. To no avail, as Athelstan was gone.

* * *

Sansa was sitting in the dark of her cell. After she, Sinric and Earl Siegfrid had been taken prisoner by the franks, they had taken away their weapons and placed heavy iron shackles around wrists and ankles.

Someone had pulled out the bolt from her flesh, but no one had bothered to clean the wound or to bandage it. At least, the bleeding had stopped.

Sitting alone in the dark, Sansa's thoughts wandered. Not knowing, whether she would ever see her children again, she kept thinking about the two little girls in Kattegat. She wondered if it had felt like this, when her father had been imprisoned in the vaults underneath the red keep of King's Landing. Surely, it must have been somehow similar. He was even wounded back then as well, Sansa remembered.

Then her thoughts returned to the man, she had long ago accepted as her father. What would Ragnar do, when he found out about her being captured? Could he do something? After all, it had proven fruitless to scale the city walls and this second attack on the gate had turned into a disaster.

* * *

In the morning, the guards took the three prisoners from their cells. Guards were dragging them through hallways and corridors, which became increasingly decorated, until they finally reached the throne room.

The three prisoners were pushed to their knees, Sinric in the middle, Sansa and Siegfrid a little behind him and to the sides. Sansa watched the Emperor sit lazily on his throne. He was slim, clad in a silk robe. His hair and beard were black, with several spots already becoming grey.

"I am told you speak our language", the Emperor said, "Yet you are with our enemies."

"I've been here before", Sinric stammered, "I'm a wanderer. No one is my enemy."

"He can maybe be of great help to us?" Emperor Charles hinted towards Count Odo.

"I would love to be of help", Sinric said, eager to save his life, "I belong to no country, I belong to no people, I only belong to the wide, wide world."

"Who is that?" the Emperor asked, pointing at the Earl.

"Earl Siegfrid", Sinric introduced him. Count Odo stepped forward.

"There was someone else", he told Sinric, "A great warrior. He spiked down our machine. I've never a man of such strength and... violence. Who is he?"

"His name is Rollo", Sinric told them, "He is the brother of King Ragnar, the leader of the northmen. He is a famous warrior – he fights like a crazy bear."

"The third prisoner, is that a woman?" Princess Gisela asked.

"Yes, Princess, that's a woman", Count Odo agreed, then turned to Sinric, "Who is she?"

"That is Sansa", Sinric said, "She's the daughter of King Ragnar."

"Is she a famous warrior, too?" the Emperor wanted to know, amused by the thought.

"She is called 'bloody-hair'", Sinric replied, "For her hair has been died with all the blood she spilled."

Sansa suppressed a smile, as she heard Sinric's version, of how she came to her nickname. Blood-encrusted as she was, it was understandable.

"Your Highness", Count Odo addressed the emperor after a short pause, "This man, Sinric, will be of use to us."

"And the other two?" Princess Gisela inquired.

"They can be ransomed", Count Odo suggested, "They will get us a good prize."

"If you care for me at all, Count Odo", Gisela told him, "You will bring me their heads."

On a nod from Count Odo, the guards dragged the prisoners out of the throne room and back to their cells.

* * *

Sansa kept sitting in her cell for days. Once a day, so her estimation, a guard brought her a little bread and water. Hunger and thirst had become permanent feelings.

She looked down at her hip. The wound was oozing by now, and her leg was burning from the infection. She had to do something about it, she knew.

Ignoring the pain in her leg, Sansa stood up and dragged herself over to the wall, where a torch was burning. She raised her hands, until the heavy shackles were touching the flame.

Holding the shackles into the fire, Sansa gritted her teeth, as the already sore flesh on her wrists was burned. Nevertheless, she continued to heat the shackles, until the metal glowed orange in the dark of her cell.

Tearing away at her jacket, she uncovered the wound. The smell of burnt flesh filled the cell, as Sansa pressed the hot metal against her skin, sealing the wound. Finally, the pain became too much for her, and she screamed in pain as she fell to the floor.

When Sansa awoke the next morning, she could feel her fever slowly easing off. She was not as cold as she had been the day before, and she generally felt a little better.

* * *

At midday, Sansa was taken from her cell and dragged away, out into the streets of Paris. Two guards were holding her by her arms, others were dragging Earl Siegfird and Sinric the same way.

The citizens of Paris were curious about the pagan devils, so it seemed to Sansa. A lot of them could be seen looking out of the windows of their houses, others seamed the streets. Many were throwing stones and garbage at the prisoners as they passed.

They entered a small square, filled with soldiers and citizens alike. Count Odo and Princess Gisela were sitting on chairs on a small wooden platform, looking down at the three.

Sinric had hinted to them, that they were now to be executed, and it seemed to Sansa that he had been right. A wooden block was awaiting them.

"I am not afraid of dying", Earl Siegfrid declared loudly, "But I want someone to hold my hair out of the way, so he can make a clean cut."

Count Odo looked confused for a second, until Sinric had translated. Gods, I _am_ afraid of dying, Sansa thought. I want to see my girls again, hold them in my arms at least once more. I have fought in battles, she reflected, I've been wounded and closer to death than to life, but this is the first time since long, that I'm afraid of dying.

Count Odo nodded to one of the soldiers, who knelt in front of the executioner's block, opposing Earl Siegfrid. He held tightly onto the Earl's long hair and another soldier raised a heavy axe over the Earl's neck.

Then something unexpected happened: As the axe came down, Earl Siegfrid pulled his head back, bringing the Frankish soldier's hands over the block. The soldier screamed in agony, as the heavy axe cut through both of his wrists. The audience held their breath, while Earl Siegfrid laughed loudly.

Sansa could not help herself but to join in the laughter. The Earl resisted them until his last breath, hoping that this would gain him a passage to Valhalla.

Even Sinric giggled, although he blushed and hid his smile behind his hands, as soon as he saw the angry looks on the faces of Count Odo and Princess Gisela.

Two of his friends carried the wounded soldier away, while another one stepped behind the laughing Earl. He drew his sword and slit Earl Siegfrid's throat, before he placed the lifeless body on the block, and the head was hacked off.

Sansa took a deep breath, ready to die, so she hoped. Gods, she prayed silently, let me die without shaming my family and protect my daughters. Surprisingly, neither one of her guards began to drag her to the block, instead Count Odo stood up and came down the stairs from the platform.

"The Emperor has reconsidered his decision", he announced, "He thinks you are too valuable a hostage to be executed."

Sinric translated to her, although Sansa had understood him well enough. It took her a moment to realize the meaning of the words. She was not going to die today.

The guards turned around and dragged her back to her cell, while the crowd around her grumbled.

* * *

The next morning, the guard who brought her bread and water was accompanied by Sinric and two nuns. Sansa was lying in the corner of her cell, when they entered. The can of water and the bread were placed on the dirty floor, while the nuns stepped closer.

"They are here to look after your wounds", Sinric explained, "You are only worthy as a hostage, if you survive."

"I have taken care of my wounds myself", Sansa grunted, "Tell them, Sinric."

Sinric translated, and the older one of the nuns shook her head. The younger one looked startled by the look in Sansa's eyes and the stories she had heard about those pagans.

"She says, she was specifically ordered to look after your wounds by the Emperor himself", Sinric translated, "If it was her decision, she would let you die and rot in hell for all eternity, but she was ordered to make sure of your survival."

Sansa grunted in frustration and gave up her resistance. The nuns opened the leather patch of Sansa's blood-encrusted battle jacket, revealing the wound she had cleaned with fire.

"It's healing", Sansa told them with Sinric as translator, "It's already cleaned. If anything, I need some clean cloth for a bandage."

The old nun nodded in agreement and wrapped some cloth around Sansa's thigh. Sansa sunk back to the floor of her cell and smiled at her. The nuns, guards and Sinric left, leaving her alone in her cell again.

* * *

"We need to attack again", Bjorn said at the meeting of the Viking leaders, "It's been more than three weeks since my sister died on that bridge. We need a new plan."

Everyone looked at the table. With Ragnar still ill and Sansa missing since the assault on the bridge, two of the important leaders were absent.

"We will poison them", Floki suggested, "We'll slaughter some pigs and cattle, and then we will drop their carcasses over the walls. When the disease spreads, they're weakened."

* * *

A month later, Princess Gisela and Count Odo met in the cathedral. Three weeks ago, another strong assault on the gate had taken place, the Frankish soldiers had barely been able to repell the attackers. And now, since the attack, diseases had begun to spread in the city.

"My god, so many?!" Count Odo asked in defiance as they observed all the sick people. Both he and the princess were barely able to stand the stench of vomit, excrements and fouling flesh.

They walked into the throne room, where the Emperor already awaited them.

"Your Highness, in the last days, over 200 of our citizens have succumbed to this unknown disease", Count Odo reported, "What is more important, we're running out of fresh food, fresh vegetables – the city is beginning to starve."

"And yet we have won a great victory?" the Emperor asked.

"We may have refused the northmen to enter the city", Count Odo told him, "But that is not exactly a victory. They may well succeed the next time. I believe we must attempt to come to terms with them."

"Father, I beg you, make no use of this counsel of despair", Gisela said stepping forward, "We must not give in to these pagans, these brutes. Otherwise we will have failed, and that is how we will be judged."

"Allow me some time to think about it", the Emperor said, "Both of you."

* * *

Sansa was surprised to see the door of her cell open a second time in one day. Hoping for another delivery of food, she was surprised, when the visitor turned out to be the Emperor himself, complete with his blue silk robe and the golden crown on his head.

Lying in her corner, Sansa watched as Sinric stood next to the emperor. He was translating between them. No one had so far discovered that Sansa had been taught a little of the Frankish language in preparation for the raid.

"How are you?" Emperor Charles asked, "I'm afraid we can't offer you more comfort."

"I take what I can get", Sansa smiled weakly.

"Count Odo thinks, I should negotiate with your father", Charles told her, "Would he be willing to talk?"

"I can't say", Sansa replied, "He might…"

"He wouldn't be welcoming negotiations about your release?" Charles wanted to know.

Sansa had listened up at the mention of 'release', yet her dirty face showed no sign of interest.

"My father is prepared to loosing me", Sansa lied, "It's not the first time I was in a battle, and it's not the first time I was wounded. With any luck I'll die in battle – that is a risk I've been taking for years."

"So he would not be appreciative of negotiations?" Charles asked.

"There is only one way to find out", Sansa told him, "Ask."

* * *

The Viking warriors roared loudly, as the Franks rode into the camp. Roland, the garrison's second in command, was leading the emissaries. He was holding a rope that had been tied around Sinric's hands.

Ragnar was lying in front of his tent, Bjorn and Rollo standing close by.

"Sinric", he called out, "I am saddened to see you a prisoner – after all, you're a wanderer."

"King Ragnar, the franks want to discuss a way to end the siege", Sinric declared.

"Why?" Bjorn asked.

"They believe, it would be better for both sides", Sinric translated.

"Why would that be better for us?" Rollo wanted to know.

"They believe you are not capable of breaching the city walls", Sinric told them.

"I say, we are", Rollo challenged the Franks.

"And what would they give us if we lift the siege?" Bjorn queried.

"That is to be decided in a meeting between you and the commander of the city, Count Odo", Sinric informed them. Bjorn stepped towards Roland, looking down at the shorter man.

"And where would we have this meeting?" he asked, "Because I know that if my father enters the city, he will be captured or killed."

"The count suggested a place outside the city walls – with no weapons", Sinric recounted, "There you will also be able to see the hostage, she can be brought up to the walls."

"What hostage?" Bjorn asked.

"Sansa is alive and imprisoned", Sinric explained as the faces of the Viking leaders fell.

"Tell them, they will have their answer tomorrow", Bjorn said. Roland turned around and walked off, only to be stopped by Rollo who cut Sinric loose from his rope.

"Why should we make any kind of deal with them?" Lagertha asked, as the Franks had left the camp.

"We lost more than a thousand men, we can't breech the city walls, winter is coming soon – do you need any more reasons?" Bjorn asked, "Aside from the fact that my sister is a hostage?"

"Why are they offering terms if they're so sure of their victory", Rollo queried.

"They've probably run out of food", Kalf suggested.

"Then we should let them starve", Erlendur argued.

"Then they will hate us even more", Bjorn told him.

"They will hate us even more if we continue the siege", Kalf explained.

Ragnar sighed in frustration as a dozen Earls and other leader began to shout at each other.

"I have something to say", he shouted. Everyone became silent and all eyes turned on him.

"I did not become Earl, because I aspired to be one", he told the others, "It was the result of other people's actions. And I didn't become King out of ambition, but once again I had no choice – because of other people's actions. Nevertheless, I am King. KING RAGNAR – that is my name. And what does a King, Bjorn?"

"He rules", Bjorn answered.

"Good!" Ragnar agreed, "And as a ruler, I have the last say. Not you, not you, not you and not you!" He pointed at Lagertha, Rollo, Bjorn and Floki, all standing around him.

"You've all had your ideas" he reminded them, "And they have all failed! I will not…"

Ragnar had to stop, when he began to vomit into the grass. The blood in it could be clearly seen.

"Now, there's no more discussion", he finally declared, "We shall meet the franks tomorrow."

* * *

The next morning, Ragnar had left before the others to meet the franks, only taking Sinric with him. Now he was standing there, supported by a stick, facing Count Odo. Ragnar had carefully made sure, that the golden cross that had once belonged to Athelstan was clearly visible around his neck. Sinric was standing in the middle, translating.

"King Ragnar", Odo began, "How much treasure do you want to lift the siege?"

When Ragnar did not answer, he offered, "5760 pounds in gold and silver?"

Odo said something to Roland.

"He urges you to accept the offer", Sinric translated, "Reinforcements are on their way to Paris."

"Tell him, I know that no one is coming to save him", Ragnar spat, "What about my daughter?"

"She will remain in the city, as surety to prevent further attacks", Count Odo told him, "She will be an honored guest at the Emperor's court."

"That is unacceptable", Ragnar told him, "We will take her with us when we leave."

"But what would assure us that you are not coming back?" Roland queried.

"I can keep up with the siege", Ragnar offered, "If you ask me to… In the end, Sansa will either be free or dead."

"We will keep her until you have removed your camp", Count Odo offered a compromise, "Then we will get her on board of the last ship that leaves."

"Agreed", Ragnar smiled, "But the other offer is not enough. I desire to be baptized."

"I don't understand", Odo said.

"I am a dying man", Ragnar told him, "When I die, I want to be reunited with my Christian friend, who happens to be in your heaven."

"You will go to hell, not paradise", the bishop of Paris told him.

Ragnar walked over to the bishop who seemed to shrink under the Viking's angry glance.

"That is not for you to decide", Ragnar smiled.

"We will make arrangements for the ceremony", Odo promised.

"This is a man of god, is it not?" Ragnar asked, "And this is water, am I wrong? You will do it here, and you will do it now!"

Ragnar walked into the river, looking at the bishop, awaiting him.

* * *

The bishop was speaking a prayer, when the other Viking leaders rode up. Lagertha, Rollo and Floki watched in shock and anger as the bishop made the sign of the cross over Ragnar's chest, before Ragnar dived under the water.

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 _A/N: So, Sansa will be released after the Vikings leave... surely that was not Ragnar's intention._

 _And of course you have noted that in the episode there is no mention of the source of the disease. My thought is that it is part of the siege warfare, as it was historically done sometimes._

 _I hope you liked it and don't forget to review!_


	33. The dead

_A/N: Vikings Season 3!  
_

 ** _Thank you for your reviews! As well as all those who follow or favorited this story!  
_**

 _The final episode of Season 3...  
_

 _ **Warning: Graphical violence...** (kinda goes without saying)_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of Thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 **Chapter 33 The Dead**

Roland was leading a group of Frankish soldiers into the Viking camp, surrounding a wagon, heavily laden with chests. As they stopped in front of the King's tent, Bjorn stepped forward, still massaging his injured shoulder. Sinric was standing next to him, translating for everyone to hear.

"All the treasure that was promised is here", Sinric translated, "They have met their obligations, now the Emperor expects you to meet yours and sail away immediately."

Roland and the Franks turned around and returned to the city, while the northmen greedily opened the chests.

"I'll tell Ragnar", Rollo informed the others. He stepped into the tent.

Ragnar was very ill, so much was obvious. He was lying on his furs, shivering badly from the fever and coughing constantly. Sometimes he coughed up blood that he spat out. A puddle of bloody spit had assembled on the ground.

"They brought the payment", Rollo told his brother.

"I don't care", Ragnar sighed, "I am dying. But at least, I know that I will see Athelstan again."

Ragnar's fingers closed around the golden cross that he kept wearing around his neck, clutching it tight.

* * *

In the camp there were two main topics for any conversation. Most of the common warriors were talking about the payment of the treasure, and the prospect of returning home soon, laden with gold.

The Viking leaders had a different topic. Lagertha was walking next to Rollo, as he returned from Ragnar's tent.

"I cannot believe that Ragnar is truly a Christian", she stated, "Not in his heart."

"You saw what you saw, and I heard what I heard", Rollo sighed, "Now I have a heavy heart."

"But you too were baptized", Lagertha argued, "It did not change you…"

"I didn't want it to change me", Rollo pointed out, "The gods protected me from the Christian magic – but they refused to protect Ragnar."

"Why?" Lagertha asked in despair.

"You know why", Rollo reminded her, "His name was Athelstan."

* * *

Somewhere else in the camp, Erlendur and Kalf were having a different conversation about the same topic.

"Do you think, it is true what they say about Ragnar?" Erlendur asked.

"I hope so", Kalf told him, "No Christian King will ever be allowed to rule our people. It's an insult to our gods."

"Someone needs to kill him", Erlendur agreed.

* * *

At night, everyone in the camp was celebrating. Fires were burning high and the men were drinking and dancing around.

Bjorn was sitting next to Ragnar in his tent. From outside, the loud cheers could be heard. Ragnar was looking intensely at his son.

"There will come a time when you are responsible for our people", Ragnar told him.

"You are our king", Bjorn objected.

"For now", Ragnar smiled, "But when that time comes, you must lead with your head and not with your heart. You should also stay close to your sister. She is someone, who is able to think, even when her heart wants to lead her in another direction. Can you do that?"

"Yes, father", Bjorn affirmed.

"Good. I have something that I only trust you to do", Ragnar hinted, "You and your sister."

* * *

In the city, the night was also for celebration. Everyone was glad the siege was over. In his office in the palace, Count Odo filled two glasses with wine. He handed one too his guest, Therese.

"Where does your husband think you are tonight?" Count Odo asked.

"My husband will be too drunk to even care", Therese smiled, sipping on her wine.

"I almost believe you", Odo laughed, taking a sip from his own glass.

"The princess will not speak with you tonight?" Therese inquired, "She seems very tedious, so boring, so moral."

"Then again, breaking her might be interesting", Odo hinted. Therese took his hand and placed it over her breast, allowing him to feel the firmness of her breast through the fabric of the dress.

"Is there a way that I might keep your interest?" she smiled seductively.

"We shall see…" Odo replied.

* * *

Lagertha was standing in the entrance of the tent, staring at Ragnar's back. Her ex-husband was shivering under his blanket, mumbling something she couldn't understand. Her heart fell, as she saw his condition. Silently, she turned around and left the tent.

* * *

Guiding her through the dark corridors underneath the palace, Count Odo and Therese made her way towards the dungeons. Finally, they entered a dark room. Count Odo lit the torches and the flickering light revealed a large arsenal of chains, whips and other torturing devices.

"If you would submit", Odo suggested.

"Submit? To what?" Therese asked in mild shock.

"To being chained up and whipped", Odo told her, "Of course I will allow you to choose the whip. Some are more severe than others. You will always be able to call a halt, though I would prefer to do so myself. If you do that, it would keep my interest undoubtedly."

Therese tried to think clearly about the proposal. She looked at the whips, the strings of leather they consisted of, and tried to imagine the pain these would cause. She walked over to the middle of the room, where chains were dangling from the ceiling and shackles were fastened to the stony ground.

"I'll do it", she said.

* * *

Floki was standing alone in his workshop. He carefully gathered his tools and looked for the wood he could use. Helga walked up to him. They had not been close ever since he told her about Athelstan's killing, but now, she was looking at her husband.

"What are you doing?" she asked. Floki looked up in dismay.

"Ragnar asked me to build him one last boat", he told her.

* * *

A few weeks later, Count Odo and princess Gisela were standing on the city wall. Roland was a little behind them. They all looked at the Viking camp, located in the far distance, at the bank of the river.

"It's been almost a month, since we gave them their blood-money", Gisela stated, "Why are they still here?"

"We don't know", Roland reported, "But they have not attacked since, and supplies have been allowed to enter the city."

"But perhaps, it is time that we found out, what is keeping them here", Count Odo suggested.

* * *

Roland and Odo were standing in front of their soldiers, facing the northmen.

"They want to know, why you are still here", Sinric translated, "They've honored their pledge, why are you not honoring yours?"

"Our King", Bjorn began, "My father, Ragnar Lothbrok, is too weak and ill to travel."

Odo said something and Sinric translated, "He wants to see."

Bjorn waved his arm at Count Odo to follow him and together they entered the tent.

Ragnar was shivering under his blanket, his eyes closed and cold sweat streaming down his head. Count Odo stood over him for a while, satisfied with the proof.

"If he dies, he has only asked one thing: that he receives a proper Christian burial", Bjorn told Odo, "Otherwise we will not leave."

"You may bring his body to the cathedral, carried by unarmed men", Odo replied, translated by Sinric, "We will read a Christian mass for his soul."

"May I ask you a personal favor?" Bjorn asked, "We will all be able to say our goodbyes here, before we hand his body over. Could you ensure that my sister is able to come to the cathedral to attend the mass?"

"I will make sure she is there", Odo agreed, "She shall have the opportunity to say her goodbyes."

"Does she know about his baptism?" Bjorn queried.

"Not yet", Odo admitted.

"Please tell her", Bjorn urged, "I'm sure she understands enough. My mother and I have also prepared a dress for her – it will be more appropriate for a ceremony than her battle jacket. And since she's imprisoned, she will be bored – can you give her these?"

Bjorn handed him a small leather pouch. Count Odo opened it and looked inside. Four dices were inside, each carved with runes.

"What is this?" Odo wanted to know, suspecting a trick of some kind.

"Just some dices, to keep her from going mad", Bjorn said, "I'm sure, she must get lonely in her prison. I want her to know that we think of her."

"I will deliver it", Odo replied, "But how would I tell her about her father's baptism and his probable death?"

"Haven't you noticed?" Bjorn was surprised, "She understands and speaks a little in your language."

* * *

After his return to the city, Count Odo visited Sansa in her cell. Sansa was still sitting in the corner of her cell, her wrists and ankles shackled together. Her hair, which had been singed during the fights on the wall had grown again, although it was filthy and greasy by now. Her battle jacket was encrusted in dirt, and her cheeks had become a little hollow, for the lack of food during the siege.

"Princess, you can now stop pretending as if you don't understand what we're saying", Count Odo told her, "Your brother admitted that you probably understand me well."

"What do you want?" Sansa asked in a bored tone.

"I have some news for you that will probably be very hard for you", Odo told her, "Your father is very ill. He is close to his death, I'm afraid. As part of our agreement for lifting the siege, he was baptized."

"Why did you force him to become a Christian?" Sansa asked in confusion.

"We didn't urge him", Odo replied, "It was his own insistence. And apparently, he wants a proper Christian burial. We will read a Christian mass for him in the cathedral after his death. Your brother wanted me to warn you, and to make sure, that you were able to attend the ceremony, to say your goodbyes."

"Bjorn is always considerate of others", Sansa reflected, "What's in this package?"

"Your brother and your mother have taken out a dress for you to wear at the service", Odo said, handing her the package, "He also wanted me to give you these. To remind you how much they all think about you."

Sansa opened the pouch and the four dices dropped out. She smiled as the dices rolled over the floor.

"Thank you, Count Odo", she said.

Count Odo left the cell and Sansa rolled over on her side. She could not believe that Ragnar Lothbrok, the man who had become to be her father had gotten himself baptized. On a second thought, it was only logical. Athelstan had been close to him, and while Sansa had long ago accepted Odin and the other gods, Ragnar had been strongly exposed to Athelstan's religion.

Then her eyes fell onto the package and the pouch with the dice. If it was true, that Ragnar had wanted a Christian burial, and Sansa had no reason to doubt that, she understood, why Bjorn and Lagertha had picked a dress for her from her bundle. But dices, made of bone? Bjorn must be making fun of her. What was she supposed to do with them?

Sansa lay on the ground for a few hours, trying to be angry at Bjorn for making fun of her. She failed. After all, he had been thinking about her, even though his gift was utterly useless.

Finally, her boredom took over again. She took one of the dices in her hand and rolled it over the floor. It landed, showing a runic '1'. Wait a moment, she thought, this is no '1', this is an 'L'! But the other sides showed numbers, from '1' to '6', all carved into the bone in runic letters. Instead of the '2', there was the 'L'.

Utterly confused, Sansa examined the other dices. Each of them had all numbers, except one was always substituted by a letter: '2' with 'L', '4' with 'Y', '1' with 'P' and '3' with O. Each of the dices only showed one letter. Bjorn must have meant to send her a message, she thought. Thinking about it, she tried to rearrange the letters so that they formed a word. After a couple of errors, she began with the letter that had substituted the '1': 'P'. She added the one that had substituted the '2': L.

P. L. O. Y.

* * *

A week had passed since Ragnar had been promised a Christian burial by Count Odo, when he closed his eyes for the last time. Bjorn had laid the body into the casket that Floki had built. It was shaped to resemble a boat, with several planks on either side. It had been painted with red and yellow colors.

Bjorn had tears in his eyes, when he saw his father lying there. His eyes were closed and his battle-jacket was flawlessly clean. The golden cross, which once belonged to Athelstan was hanging around Ragnar's neck, surrounded by his hands.

Bjorn took a deep breath, before he closed the lid. Two warriors heaved the casket onto the table, while Bjorn left the tent. Everyone outside was sad. Lagertha's eyelids were heavy and red from tears, Floki looked as if he had just been slapped. Rollo looked as if he still couldn't believe it. Others, who had never met him personally, were crying all over the camp.

"You can go talk to him now", Bjorn told them when the other warriors left the tent.

* * *

Lagertha was the first to enter. Placing her hands on the wood of the casket, she bowed down.

"Who knows, Ragnar, What the gods have in store for us", she asked, "But this, I could never imagine. If you've gone to heaven, then we will never meet again. But I think, that Odin will ride faster than the wind to save you and take you to Valhalla, where you belong. And there we shall meet again and fight, drink and love one another, my sweet Ragnar."

* * *

Rollo was sitting next to the casket, his head leaning back against the wood.

"I've always resented you", he admitted, "No point denying it. I'm sorry you're dead, but it happens to all of us sooner or later. Still funny that the gods took you first. We always thought, they favored you."

* * *

Floki was standing next to the casket.

"So, I made to boat that took you to fame, I made the boat that will take you to your heaven", he stated, "Give my regards to Athelstan. You betrayed yourself. You betrayed our future and our heritage. You betrayed _me_."

He hammered his fist against the wood.

"I loved you more than that priest ever loved you", Floki recalled, "But you always thought, 'Oh, it's just Floki. No need to bother about Floki, he's just a fool.' I hate you, Ragnar Lothbrok! And I love you – Why do you tear me away from myself?!"

* * *

Sansa looked up when Count Odo and two guards entered her cell. Standing in the door, they looked down at her. With a glance, barely notable, Sansa made sure that the dices were not displaying anything than randomness.

"I'm afraid, this is the day", Count Odo informed her, "Your brother sent a messenger, and we've arranged for the mass to be held just after noon. You will likely wish to prepare yourself, so we will bring you into another room."

The guards helped Sansa to her feet and dragged her out of her cell. They took her into a room of the palace, where a bucket of water and a servant awaited her. After they had taken off her shackles, Count Odo promised to get her in time for the ceremony, before he and the guards left.

Sansa massaged her wrists for a moment, the handmaid staring at her, afraid.

"No need to be afraid", Sansa smiled, "I won't bite. Not today."

Sansa began to unlace the string of her leather battle jacket with the segments of chainmail that covered some parts. She shrugged out of it before taking off her tunic and pants.

Standing naked in the room, she took a rag from the bucket and began to wash herself. Although she barely noticed the smell of her own body anymore, she was fully aware that the stench of the dirt from several months imprisonment had to be overwhelming. She also undid her hair and washed and combed it thoroughly.

After she had dried herself, Sansa put on the dress that Bjorn and Lagertha had sent her. It was of two different shades of blue, and came with a simple but beautiful necklace, that Sansa put on next to the Thor's hammer around her neck.

Finally, she began to braid her hair. The braids on her temples, before braiding the top portion of her hair.

* * *

The procession was nearing the gate of Paris. They were singing and screaming, some were beating their drums, others were rattling with links of chains or with their weapons.

 _"Cattle die, kinsmen die,  
you yourself soon must die;  
but there is one thing that never dies,  
the fair fame that one has earned._

 _"Cattle die, kinsmen die,_  
 _you yourself soon must die;_  
 _but there is one thing that never dies,_  
 _the doom on each one dead."_

At the gate, they were awaited by the Bishop of Paris and several of his aides. The Viking army stayed behind and only the six men carrying the casket walked on. They entered the city and made their way slowly towards the cathedral.

The streets were seamed with the people of Paris. Some wanted a blessing by the Bishop, but most only wanted to take a look on those men that had held their city under siege.

They entered the church and the northmen placed the casket on the wooden stand in the center row in front of the altar. The Emperor and his daughter were standing next to it, across from Count Odo and Therese.

Sansa was beside Count Odo. When the warriors had placed the casket on the stand, and stepped back a little, Emperor Charles waved at her, inviting to step forward and say her goodbyes to her father.

Aware, that every eye in the cathedral was on her, Sansa stepped forward with tears glistening in her eyes. She placed her hands on the casket, then bowed down and kissed the wood.

"There is one thing that never dies", she said aloud in the norse language, "The fame we will earn today."

Unable to hold her tears back any longer, she stepped back to her place next to Count Odo. As she took her place, she wiped her face with her hand.

The Bishop stepped forward.

"In nominae patri, et filius et spiritus sancti", he said. Then he walked slowly around the casket, sprinkling it with holy water, while praying loudly. As he finished, the lid on the casket moved.

Sansa had not known what to expect. She was sure that there had been some last plan to raid the city, so far Bjorn's message had been clear. Yet, she had not dared to hope that Ragnar might still be alive. But when she had seen the slightest movement of the lid, she was not taken by surprise as everyone else, but she stepped forward quickly, away from Count Odo.

The lid cluttered over the stone floor of the church, as Ragnar rose from his casket. It was obvious that he was still in pain, but he was certainly alive. Holding a dagger in front of him, He approached the Emperor who stepped back, his eyes wide in fear and shock.

In the meantime, the six warriors, who had carried the casket, had stepped towards it and retrieved their weapons, hidden inside. Sansa took a dagger for herself.

Ragnar had pushed back the Emperor against the altar. Next to him, the bishop was standing, frozen in fear. Ragnar eyed him for a moment, before stabbing him into the throat.

The audience screamed as the bishop's blood spurted out of his throat and over Ragnar's face. As swift as his attack on the bishop had been, his dagger was back against the emperor's throat. Only Princess Gisela dared to move. In a stubborn attack, she slapped Ragnar on the back of his head.

Sansa lunged forward and grabbed the Princess on her hair while pushing her blade against her throat so that she was barely able to breathe without being cut.

"Don't move", Sansa whispered into Gisela's ear.

"I win", Ragnar told the Emperor, whose eyes rolled inwards as he fainted.

Several Frankish soldiers tried to step towards the Vikings, while the six warriors covered Ragnar and Sansa.

"Stop!" Count Odo ordered them, "Or they will kill the princess."

* * *

The group of Northmen quickly moved through the city, Sansa guiding the Princess in front of her. The citizens ran away screaming as they saw the Vikings. Count Odo and several of his warriors followed close behind, not daring to attack, for fear for the hostage.

Finally, they reached the city gate. Two soldiers were guarding it. Ragnar looked challengingly at Count Odo, who sighed and waved them off. Carefully, they made it through the gate and over the drawbridge.

"Cut the ropes", Sansa suggested, remembering how the drawbridge had trapped her in the city. Two of the warriors obeyed and then they moved over the bridge.

The warriors were already at the gate on the other end of the bridge and opened the gate, when Sansa looked at the princess. She fought with herself for a moment, then pulled the dagger away from her throat.

"Run", Sansa urged her. Gisela stared at her in confusion for a moment, then turned around and ran back into the city.

Outside the gates, Bjorn was standing in front of the Viking army. Everyone had his weapons ready. Finally, Bjorn raised his arms, signaling for the warriors to enter the city. The men stormed over the bridge towards the handful of Frankish soldiers that had been left to defend the inner gate. They were cut down quickly, and the warriors spread horror over the streets.

Ragnar and Sansa slowly walked out of the city, meeting Bjorn at the outer gate. Just as they reached him, Ragnar's knees gave out underneath him. He collapsed into his sons arms, just as the other leaders walked up to him. Neither one seemed happy that he was still alive.

* * *

In the morning, the smoke and dust was settling over the city. Many places were burning, others had been completely searched and ridded of every piece of gold and silver. Count Odo encountered Princess Gisela at the entrance of the cathedral. They both entered, and amongst all the others that were still there, Emperor Charles was sitting on the floor, leaning onto the altar.

"Your Highness", Count Odo began, "They have raided many parts of the city. They took what they wanted and left."

"They have violated our city", the Emperor stated, "What is there to say? All the angels in heaven are weeping…"

"Father, get up", Gisela said with obvious annoyance in her voice, "The heathens are gone."

* * *

In the Viking camp, the leaders were having a different conversation. Everyone was assembled in the leader's tent.

"Why did you not tell us earlier?" Lagertha asked angrily, "Did you not trust us?"

"I only did what my father asked me to do", Bjorn replied.

"But Bjorn…" Floki began.

"It is the way he wanted it to do, and he is still king", Bjorn interrupted him, "And he succeeded. He got us into Paris. And now we have even more spoils."

"Did you know about this?" Lagertha accused Sansa.

"I suspected something after the warning Bjorn sent me", she admitted, "But I had no idea, that he was still alive."

"He sent you a message?!" Lagertha raged, "Why did you send _her_ a message and didn't trust us!?"

"Mother, Sansa is my sister", Bjorn said, "If not by blood, she is by law and I love her as my sister. And it was necessary to get her out of there."

"What if the message had been intercepted by the Franks?" Rollo wanted to know.

"I can show you the message", Sansa smiled as she dug the dices from her pocket, "Tell me if you can figure out what it means."

"We will return to home", Bjorn announced, "But because we intend on raiding Paris again in the spring, it is important to maintain some sort of presence here."

"I will stay", Floki offered.

"No, you have no reason to stay", Rollo told him.

"Then you will stay here with the warriors that decide to stay here with you", Bjorn stated.

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 _A/N: Alright, guys, here we are at the end of it. At least as far as I had planned when I started writing this fic._

 _I am sorry if I destroyed the surprise of Ragnar still being alive, at least for those who have not seen the corresponding episode. But for Sansa to participate in the plan, I needed to warn her – I actually spent about two weeks thinking about a functional way of sending the message._

 _I'm also sorry, I didn't use more GoT characters, I somehow forgot about them and when I remembered, I could not find any space to fit them in. And please remember that this fic covers a much longer timeline than the GoT plot – we are somewhere in the equivalent of the 14_ _th_ _or 15_ _th_ _season by now._

 _I definitely plan on continuing, whether I will append to this story or post it as a separate sequel, I haven't decided yet. I will definitely try and incorporate more GoT characters into the plot, but it will be a little while until I've straightened out my ideas. For the meantime, I will also put it as 'Complete' – but when I start appending it will obviously be changed back (and if I decide it fits better as a separate sequel, I will not change it back)._

 _Those of you familiar with the episode, as well as the first episode of Season 4 of Vikings will surely agree with me, that Rollo's arrival in Paris fits much better in the fourth season. I get why they did it, creating a nice cliffhanger, but I decided to change this. This chapter turned out long enough as it is._

 _During the next part (and its likely to be dozens of chapters), I will probably kill off some of the GoT characters, and to determine this, I will create a poll on my profile soon. Each of the characters has three options: kill, safe and don't care. There is a separate poll for both kill and safe, please make sure you don't select a character in both. If a character does not stand there, it usually means I have already decided about him!_ _ **When voting, please keep in mind that Sansa has been extracted from the GoT plot in mid-season 4!**_ _Therefore, some characters exist where one would think: "She has to kill them, remember what he/she/they did to her!", but in truth, she never suffered from this action in this storyline, because she left Westeros too early for these parts!_

 _In the end, I will make my decision based on the result of the poll, but it will be a guideline, nothing more. I may end up killing the character for whom everyone voted 'Safe' and I may spare a character everyone wanted to see dead. The ultimate deciding factor is whether I can think of a way of killing (or saving) certain characters, while still sustaining the overall feel of the story._

 _Finally, I hope you enjoyed it and don't forget to review!_

 _PS: Did you notice that I wrote all this, without mentioning the seer at all? If you don't believe me, you are welcome to go back and re-read it…_


	34. Rumors

_A/N: Finally, a chapter that takes us back to Westeros, this time for the whole length of the chapter._

 _Roughly 10 years have passed since the purple wedding. That takes us into what would be the 24_ _th_ _Season of Game of Thrones (The Seasons in Game of Thrones cover approx. half a year...)_

 _Although I don't like them, for the sake of the story, I have decided to write the Lannister's as the victors of the war._

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 **Chapter 34 Rumors**

"Your Grace, what happened in Paris is of the utmost concern to us all", Grand Maester Qyburn said at the meeting of the small council.

"I know", Cersei Lannister, first of her name, Queen of the Andals and the first men, sighed, "We are all shocked that such a group of savages can take a well-fortified city like Paris. But what do we exactly know about them?"

"Very little I'm afraid", Qyburn sighed. The Grand Maester serving as master of the whisperers looked at the other councilmember's faces.

"The city was besieged", he told them, "For several months, they endured until they were finally tricked. That is what I have pieced together of what the traders tell me. Unfortunately, that is more information than I get from my usual sources."

"What were we to do if they reached the seven Kingdoms?" Lord Petyr Baelish, the Hand of the King (or Queen) asked, "If they found the way here, it would be catastrophic…"

"From what I heard, it could be really hard to beat them in open battle", Jamie Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and reinstated commander of the King's guard mused, "I believe it's possible, but they sound like formidable fighters."

"We could offer them money to let us in peace", one of the councilmember's suggested.

"We can't and we won't", Cersei interrupted him, "For one we don't know where they come from so it's beside the point to go there and offer them money. Secondly, I don't intend to lure them here by implying that we can afford it, and thirdly, we will not pay money to such savages."

"Well said, Your Grace", Littlefinger added, "We will deal with them, if they ever reach our shores."

* * *

The council soon dispersed and everyone went on their own ways. Out on the battlements, Jamie Lannister met his old friend, Ser Bronn of the Blackwater.

"So are you finally done with looking important?" Bronn asked as Jamie stepped towards him.

"Never", Jamie smiled, "I always look important. What are you up to?"

"Not much, just listening to all the stories about the Northmen in Paris", Bronn shrugged.

"Really impressive, what they have done", Jamie agreed, "You know I always treasure your opinion. Let me ask you, what do you think would happen if they were to attack in Westeros?"

"So that's what this meeting was all about – I was already wondering what took you so long", Bronn smirked, "I don't know. My best guess is that we'd get a proper battle. I am quite certain to get out of it myself. About you, maybe. But we have so many green boys in our service, I can't promise anything."

"I know", Jamie sighed. It was a problem that he was well aware of. Most of the guardsmen and men-at-arms were young men, too young to have fought in the war of the five kings. Almost a decade without major battles, most of them were inexperienced. And from the experienced ones, almost none were old enough to have served already at the beginning of the war.

"I will be at Casterly Rock for the next two weeks", Jamie changed the topic, "I will try and return for my sister's nameday."

"Sure, mylord", Bronn said.

* * *

Both Knights walked out of the red keep, into the courtyard where a stableboy held Jamie's horse ready for him. He climbed into the saddle and joined his escort. When he looked at them, a slight unease hit him. Bronn was right, Jamie thought, most of those men were green boys. Too many good men had died in the civil war they had been fighting to keep the crown. And those who were now old enough to be knights and squires, men-at-arms and sometimes even the captain of the guard, had been too young to fight in the last war.

His lion banner flying next to him, they rode out of the city, heading east towards Casterly Rock. When they had cleared the gates, they increased their speed until they were travelling at a fast pace, without exhausting the horses quite yet.

* * *

Three weeks later, the city was overflowing with participants and spectators, all eager for the great tournament for the Queen's nameday. Knights and their ladies, squires, sellswords and men-at-arms had come from all over the seven Kingdoms, each convinced to leave with the victor's prize in their pockets.

A few days later, the banners were flying high over the plains just outside the city, where the tourney was to be held. Tents and Pavilions had been set up in preparation and the place for the jousting was ready.

Finally, the sun rose, announcing the day of the tournament, so many had waited for. The almost legendary riches of the house Lannister had provided for the glorious ambiance. By mid-morning, the place had filled with knights and lords, squires, sellswords, men-at-arms and the citizens of King's Landing. Everyone was waiting for the Queen to arrive, no one would have dared to suggest to begin without her. Just in time, Cersei Lannister arrived and the tournament began.

When the jousting began, the chatter among the spectators died away, every eye following, as the riders tried to unhorse each other. Knights and freeriders fell to the sandy ground, their armor dented and scratched, their lances splintered.

* * *

As the riders were taking a break, the nobles swapped their seats and talked among each other. Ramsay Bolton, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North was speaking to Jamie Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West. Jamie had only returned barely in time to see the tournament, although he was no longer participating, considering that he had lost his hand in the war.

"Lord Lannister", Ramsay Bolton said, "I am glad to see you here."

"I'm glad I'm entertaining you, Lord Bolton", Jamie replied courteously.

"Have you heard about the siege of Paris?" Ramsay asked, "One would think that a city built on the island of a river should hold out."

"It seems no one can talk about anything else, these days", Littlefinger interrupted, as he walked closer.

"The general that took the city was a woman", Ramsay told them, "At least, that's what I heard."

"A woman?!" Jamie asked in surprise.

"The daughter of their King", Littlefinger explained.

"I heard that she slew so many men that no one could tell anymore what color her skin has", Ramsay added.

"From what I heard, she tricked the Franks and let herself take prisoner", Petyr recalled, "When they wanted to kill her, she slew her guards and opened the gates on her own."

* * *

The break was over and the jousting continued, until finally a single Knight was sitting in his saddle. When the night broke, the nobles returned to the red keep while the commoners walked off into the alehouses of King's Landing.

The Queen was sitting on her prestigious place on the table, her brother Jamie by her side. The other nobles filled the room, seated according to their status amongst each other. Every dish was brought to the Queen first, so she could choose her portion, before it was distributed through the hall.

It was past midnight, when the hall emptied itself. Occasionally, drunken knights were lying under the tables or Lords were kissing servant girls. Cersei walked to her chambers, where her brother already waited for her.

"Cersei, you look beautiful", Jamie told her as they entered the room.

"That is only the wine talking", she refused, "I'm getting old."

"You're still the most beautiful woman I know", Jamie insisted, as he bowed down and kissed her. Cersei opened her mouth and in a heated embrace, they both landed on the bed.

* * *

Two days later, the small council was holding its regular meeting. The Queen was occupying her own seat, looking at the councilmen.

"So what is today's business?" she asked.

"The tournament for your nameday is over and you probably want to know what that extravagancy cost the crown", Littlefinger replied.

"I could not care less", Cersei sneered, "You and the master of coin will find a way to regain the money, I am sure."

"Certainly, Your Grace", Lord Petyr Baelish answered.

"Now, to the more important matters", Cersei said, turning to Qyburn.

"I have been able to add a few details to the reports we received of the siege of Paris", Grand Maester Qyburn, the Master of Whispers informed them, "The stories told by the traders are probably less accurate but actually more informative. What I've pieced together the past days, is this: Paris was attacked by people who called themselves Northmen or Vikings. During a siege which lasted several months, their King was killed and apparently his daughter continued to lead the army."

"His daughter?!" the commander of the city guard asked, "I would say, his son most likely…"

"It's possible of course", Qyburn admitted, "But there is a significant portion of reports that indicate that a woman, said to be the king's daughter, snuck into the city by night and opened the gates herself. She also kidnapped the Princess of Frankia and injured Emperor Charles, before making her escape."

"I hope they are both alright?" Petyr wanted to know.

"From what I heard, the Princess was released after the capture of the city and the Emperor's wounds are minor", Qyburn answered.

"Well, it was already decided that we're not going to react to all this", Cersei reminded him, "What else?"

"Your treacherous brother is still at the court in Mereen", Qyburn explained, "Apparently, they're gathering their forces for a renewed attack on the seven Kingdoms."

"That is not good", Cersei spat, "I did command you to find a way to kill him, didn't I?"

"Yes, Your Grace", Qyburn admitted, "Unfortunately our agent failed."

"Are you certain that they're still in Mereen?" Jamie asked, "It would be an unpleasant surprise to find them sailing up blackwater bay in the next days."

"There have been no reports that in any way indicate that the fleet has left Mereen", Qyburn answered, "It may well be some time before they set sail."

* * *

The sun had begun to set when the meeting of the small council was over. The Lords, maesters and the Queen dispersed, each walking his own way. Grand Maester Qyburn made his way through the corridors of the red keep, until he finally arrived at the rooms where the Queen resided.

When he entered, Cersei Lannister looked up from her desk. Her blond hair had begun to turn grey the last year, yet the beauty of her younger years was still visible.

"Well, what is it that you didn't tell me at the meeting of the small Council?" she asked.

"There is something else about the attack on Paris", Qyburn reported.

Cersei smiled, "Anything of interest?"

Qyburn smiled mischievously. "Not from the council meeting, Your Grace", he said.

"I fear that it may actually their ultimate goal to strike King's Landing one day, and Paris may just have been a good place to try their hand on sieges", Qyburn told her, "I have not told the council about this yet, because I wanted you to know about his first."

"Why do you assume us as their target?" Cersei asked.

"I am sure you heard all the stories yourself", Qyburn said, "About the Norse King dying and his daughter leading the final assault?"

"Of course I heard these stories", Cersei said, slightly annoyed, "The daughter who dyes her hair red with the blood of her enemies. Although that is highly unbelievable, I have no idea what those barbarians are thinking."

"This daughter is called 'bloody-hair'", Qyburn reminded her, "But what is my concern is her first name – it's of Westerosi origin…"

"Are you sure?" Cersei asked, "I don't know if I want to believe the stories about that girl at all. I will not fear her just because her name may come from here. What is her name, then?"

"Sansa."

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 _A/N: So, here is the starting point for the Westerosi plot. I hope you like it so far!_

 _I had actually written a chapter that featured Margaery and Tommen, which I liked very much. Unfortunately, I found it impossible to think of a different way for Cersei to escape her trial by the High Sparrow. So, Tommen and Margaery are out, unfortunately._

 ** _If you haven't done yet, please vote for the Kill/Safe poll!_**

 ** _I am going to change the question to 'Safe' today, so please vote!  
_**

 _This is an intermediate chapter, while I still order my ideas on how to continue/ how to combine the two worlds! In a few weeks, I will begin writing the next part!  
_

 _Don't forget to review!_


	35. A good Treason

_A/N: Hello again! I am finally getting around bringing this story back._

 _Pretty obviously it is set at the end of Vikings Season 3, heading into Season 4..._

 _Here are the results of the polls:_

 _Kill: Jaime Lannister, Ramsay Bolton, Littlefinger and Theon Greyjoy (each has 2 votes)_

 _Safe:_

 _3 votes: Arya Stark, Bronn  
_

 _2 votes: Grey Worm, Missandei, Brienne of Tarth, Yara Greyjoy_

 _1 vote: Podrick Payne, Daario Naharis, Varys_

 _A little reminder, I am not sure if I will entirely comply with the results of the poll. It depends on me finding a way to fit it in the story. And not ev ery character featured in the poll neccessarily will make an appearence, only if he/she fits in my storyline!_

 _ **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

 **Chapter 34 A good Treason**

Roland and the other Frankish soldiers were standing in Rollo's tent. The Viking warrior was sitting on the table, Sinric, the wanderer next to him translating.

"The Emperor offers you a vast area of land in the northern part of Frankia", Sinric translated, "He will make you a Duke, the highest honor he can bestow. You will be very rich and you will be very powerful."

Rollo seemed to think about it for a moment. Roland had another argument.

"The Emperor also offers the hand of his beautiful daughter, Gisela, in marriage", Sinric translated.

"What must I do in the return?" Rollo asked.

"You must defend Paris against your brother", Roland replied.

* * *

The two boys were strongly pulling on the small cart, where their brother sat. The fourth brother was running behind them.

"Out of the way!" they yelled as they made their way through the traders on the main street, over the small bridge spanning over the small brook and towards the great hall. They had barely entered when a man stepped behind them.

"Where are the little ones?" he asked. Bjorn looked into the faces of his brothers, smirking in mock surprise.

"Ubba, Hvitserk, Sigurd, Ivar", he acted as if he wouldn't recognize them, "You've all gotten so big."

The boys assaulted him with their hugs, almost forcing him down. Sansa laughed as she took in the scenery from the door.

"SANSA!" Hvitserk cried and hugged his big sister tightly. By chance he just pressed against Sansa's barely healed wound on her leg. Sansa pulled a face but bit down the pain.

"Easy, little brother", she cautioned him, "I'm glad to see you as well, but I've been wounded and you're hurting me a little."

"Sorry", Hvitserk mumbled, "Is it bad?"

"It's almost healed", Sansa smiled at them, "But it still hurts when you press hard against the scar."

"Mama?" a little girl asked shyly from behind them. Resolutely pushing their young uncles out of the way, Gyda and Arya lunged forward in her arms.

"Arya! Gyda!" Sansa exclaimed, "How much you've grown! I missed you so much!"

"Missed you too, mama" Gyda mumbled while Arya was holding so tightly onto her that Sansa pulled a face as her daughter pulled on her hair.

* * *

Floki was standing on Ragnar's bed. Although his death during the siege of Paris had only been a trick, Ragnar was still very ill. More than ever before, he was closer to death than to life.

"We have carved these runes for you", Floki said as he placed carved antlers on Ragnar's chest, "They will help to heal you. I swear it."

* * *

Bjorn was sitting next to Aslaug. He was staring into the fire.

"I don't understand why Thorunn left", he stated.

"No one knows", Aslaug told him, "She left in the night, no one saw her go. She left behind your daughter."

A wetnurse brought the small girl to Bjorn who looked at her for a moment.

"Don't worry, we will take care of her", Aslaug said angrily, when Bjorn gave no sign of happiness.

* * *

The next morning, men were busy unloading the treasures they had brought from Paris. Aslaug was sitting on her chair in the great hall, admiring the treasure.

"So Paris was everything Athelstan promised?" she asked.

"And everything Ragnar dreamed off", Bjorn agreed. He handed each of the boys a piece of the treasure, which they looked at in awe. Sigurd showed the goblet proudly to Arya who snatched it out of his hands and tried to run off. Sigurd looked at her angry, then shoved her to the ground and took the goblet back. Arya tried to shove the boy herself, but was stopped by her mother.

"Arya! Sigurd! Don't hurt each other!" Sansa scolded.

* * *

Later that day, Bjorn had taken a place out on a large rock, standing next to Aslaug. The men and women of Kattegat and many of the other towns had assembled underneath him.

"Today we grieve for our dead", he declared, "But we should all be proud of what we have achieved. This is the lock from the gates of Paris – I hacked it off myself."

Bjorn raised a couple of wooden planks, held together by an iron lock. Everyone cheered.

"Paris has made us all very rich", Bjorn continued, "Rich and famous. Nothing can stop us! Now Ragnar is dangerously ill. It is true he may still die – But who is your King?"

"RAGNAR!" they cheered.

"To whom do we owe our allegiance?" he asked.

"RAGNAR!"

"Ragnar himself has always shown his gratitude to those who believed in him", Bjorn reminded them, "For example, the English monk Athelstan."

The crowd became silent.

"Athelstan taught him many things", Bjorn continued, "He helped Ragnar understand many things. And he guided us towards Paris in the first place. Therefore – I order the arrest of Floki for the murder of Athelstan!"

Underneath Bjorn, Floki was being grabbed by several men. Floki had raised his axe, ready to strike down the first one to make a move.

"What I did was for the common good", Floki declared, "I have nothing to ask for. But don't you remember, Bjorn, how we talked about that Christian Priest? How you also feared his influence on your father? Why don't you admit it?"

He had dropped his axe and was dragged away by several guards.

* * *

Lagertha, Kalf, Erlendur and the other warriors of Hedeby returned into the town. After they entered the great hall, they were greeted by the inhabitants of Hedeby. Erlendur was talking with Einar, who hated Lagertha.

"Welcome back, Erlendur, son of Horik", Einar greeted him, "What is this?"

"This is a Frankish weapon", Erlendur told him, "They call it a crossbow. I think it might prove useful."

Kalf stepped forward, still clad in his long cloak.

"Good folk of Hedeby", he spoke up, "I am glad to see you all again. We have brought back many spoils from Paris. During the fiercest fighting on the walls and at the gates, I saved Lagertha's life, and she saved mine. Therefore I propose, that although we are not married, Lagertha and I will share the earldom of Hedeby as equals."

Lagertha was unable to trust her ears for a moment, then she became aware how everyone in the room was staring at her. Finally she took a deep breath and nodded in agreement.

* * *

A week had passed since they had returned to Kattegat. Floki had spent the time chained to a pole on the market place, little children having fun by throwing stones and mud at him, while Helga fruitlessly tried to chase them away.

Ragnar still had not woken up from his fever dreams, and one could have mistaken him for dead already, if he hadn't been breathing.

A slave trader had taken his place on the market place of Kattegat. The slaves were chained around their wrists and herded in a line. Strong men for the field were standing amongst beautiful Frankish women, with an occasional strong boy mixed in between.

Men from Kattegat were standing close by, examining them, while the trader praised the slaves highly. Then he stopped and pushed one of the men back.

"Make way for the queen!" the trader ordered as Aslaug walked towards his stand. Carefully she mustered the slaves.

"Who are these people?" Aslaug asked.

"They are from Paris, most of them", the trader explained, "Others have been imported via the eastern trade routes and came over Svearland. They are for sale – for a good prize."

* * *

In his bed, Ragnar weakly opened his eyes. His hand moved out and he felt his surroundings. His son entered the room.

"Father!" Ubba cried out, "You're awake!"

"Nothing gets past you, Ubba", Ragnar complimented with a smile, before he coughed heavily.

"Are you ill again?" Ubba asked, concerned.

"No, I'm alive", Ragnar said, "Unfortunately."

* * *

Aslaug was still standing at the slave traders stand, waiting while the slave she had just purchased was washed, when Ubba ran up to her.

"Father is awake!" he told her. When Aslaug's face showed no reaction, he asked, "Don't you care?"

"Of course I care", Aslaug smiled weakly, "Go tell everyone that Ragnar the king lives."

* * *

The news of Ragnar's awakening quickly spread all over the town. Helga was standing close to Floki who was still chained up on the market place.

"Ragnar will kill me for what I did to the priest", Floki muttered, "It was wrong of me to carve these runes. Helga, please, help me escape."

* * *

Ubba was sitting next to Bjorn, who was holding a candle over a painted piece of paper.

"What's that?" he asked.

"I don't know", Bjorn admitted, pointing at the map, "But that looks like a road and this might be the sea. I found it in a house in Frankia."

In the meantime, Sansa was sitting next to Ragnar's bed. The Viking King was tiredly lying on the sheets, trying to regain his strength after his long sleep.

* * *

In Hedeby, Einar and Kalf met outside the town behind a shed.

"Earl Kalf, the arrangement you made with Lagertha is unacceptable", Einar told Kalf, "Me and my family made you Earl, and you promised us to overthrow and remove all members of the Lothbrok dynasty."

"I didn't realize you were quite so antagonistic to the new arrangement", Kalf replied.

"We can easily unmake you Earl", Einar threatened.

* * *

In the evening Kattegat's great hall was full. Everyone looked up from the feast as Ragnar left his room and joined them, supported by his stick.

"Please, don't let your happiness be interrupted by poor little me", Ragnar told them as everyone was staring at him. Sighing, he let himself down on his chair.

"They're all so happy to see you alive", Aslaug told him.

"Some more than others", Ragnar replied. In the meantime, Aslaug's new servant with her strangely shaped face and her slit eyes poured him a cup of Ale.

"What did I miss?" Ragnar asked as he saw the new face.

"You tell him", Ivar urged Ubba.

"Bjorn has arrested Floki", Ubba told him.

"Yes", Bjorn agreed.

"Why?" Ragnar wanted to know.

"Floki needed to be dealt with", Bjorn replied, "You were incapacitated, I thought it was the right thing to do."

"Did you also think, that if I wanted him arrested, I would have done it a long time ago?" Ragnar queried, "But now, you have made it public and left me with no options. Now, I have to deal with my old friend."

Sansa shot Bjorn a smirking glance over the table.

"Sansa, I don't want to hear it", Bjorn cautioned her.

"So you remember which sentence I hate to say the most?" Sansa giggled sipping on her cup, _"I told you so…"_

"Whose stupid idea was it to leave my brother behind in Paris?" Ragnar demanded to know, "The two of you can answer that?"

Sansa blushed at the reprimand and took another long sip from her cup.

"His own", Bjorn raged, "He is my uncle."

"He is my brother", Ragnar reminded him, "And I know better…"

* * *

In Paris, Rollo was standing in front of the newly appointed bishop. The doors of the cathedral opened and Emperor Charles guided his daughter into the church.

Causing the wooden bench to squeak, Rollo knelt down in front of the bishop. The Princess stood behind him, hesitant.

"Please, Princess", the bishop urged, "If you don't kneel, we cannot conduct the ceremony."

With tears glistening in her eyes, the Princess fell to her knees next to Rollo.

* * *

Outside of Hedeby, Kalf was standing on a rock, addressing his people.

"It would seem that I made a mistake when I announced that Lagertha and I would rule together", he declared, "To many of you, such an arrangement is unacceptable. I ask you now to cut your mark in the pole, so we have proof of our decision. Lagertha will be banished to wander where she will."

Lagertha could hardly believe her ears as Kalf had just turned his mind back around and asked for her to be banished. In anger she stared at him, as he watched the crowd. Einar stepped forward first and made a cut in the wooden pole. Many others followed, each making his mark.

"Here you have your answer", Einar declared.

"I see", Kalf acknowledged, "And here, Einar, you have mine."

Archers and crossbowmen had surrounded them and shot them all down in a rapid crossfire. Many of the troublemakers fell, and finally, Einar was hit by a bolt to the throat, nailing him against the pole. Einar coughed up blood.

"Wait!" Lagertha commanded, as she stepped closer. She drew the knife from Einar's belt and loosened his pants. With a swift cut, Lagertha separated his manhood from the rest of his body.

"I should have done this a long time ago, Einar", Lagertha commented, as Einar closed his eyes.

* * *

Rollo was sitting idly in a room of the royal castle in Paris. A Frankish guard entered and something Rollo could not understand. Damned Sinric for leaving, Rollo thought. He just looked at the guard blankly. The young soldier thought for a moment, then opened the door and a Viking entered.

"Erik!" Rollo greeted him, "Take a seat."

"There has been a meeting at the camp", Erik told him sternly, "Some of the warriors are unhappy with the situation. You are a Christian now, a Frankish nobleman. They don't want to fight for the Franks."

"How many?" Rollo asked.

"They don't want to fight against King Ragnar", Erik explained.

"How many?" Rollo repeated.

"Maybe half", Erik guessed.

"And you, Erik, are you so unhappy?" Rollo queried.

"No!" Erik assured him, "That's why I came to warn you immediately."

"Go back to the camp", Rollo told him, "I will come in a short time and put all their minds at ease."

* * *

Bjorn was sitting in his room, angry at everyone. Carefully, Sansa knocked on his door.

"May I come in?" she asked.

"As if I could stop you…", Bjorn scolded, "What do you want?"

"I've come to say I'm sorry", Sansa smiled, "I shouldn't have picked on you when our father was already angry at you."

"Thanks", Bjorn tried a smile, "But you were right – he didn't want Floki arrested. How come you can always tell what's on his mind? You aren't even related by blood."

"No, but nevertheless, I am your sister", Sansa assured him, "I love you as I loved my brothers from my old family. They're all dead now, because of schemes that no one was able to see. Some were betrayed by our best friends, others were killed out of naivety. I never thought I would survive the war, but then I met our father. And when you and Lagertha left, I was adopted. I spent those four years closer to our father than anyone else, except for Aslaug. I learned to think like he does – I've been keeping secrets that you would gladly kill him for if you ever found out."

"Really?" Bjorn asked, "What secrets?"

"I've kept them so long, I won't betray his trust now", Sansa smiled, "But as much despair I've experienced in my former life, I've been a valuable advisor to him for these experiences. Who else would have thought of inviting Jarl Borg back into our alliance, to lure him out of his lands? The truth is, my oldest brother and mother were murdered by a potential ally they visited. I've stopped to think honorably a long time ago. I would betray absolutely everyone to protect the family I found. And I would ally with everyone who is able to help me with this. That's the difference between us."

"I would do everything to protect my family as well", Bjorn objected.

"I don't have to remind you of Thorunn's face, do I?" Sansa asked, "It is not unusual for any of us to be wounded or killed in battle, but when you let her come although you knew that she was with child, that was a stupid decision. But you know that for yourself. When the time comes that you inherit father's kingdom, remember this: A king needs someone he can trust above anything. Someone who keeps the secrets no one can ever be allowed to know about and who can do the things the king cannot possible do himself. I don't know how it came to pass, but to our father, this person is me."

"But why would he choose you above me?" Bjorn wanted to know, "After all, you were only a slave once."

"I was a slave once, and I was a princess before", Sansa recalled, "I don't know what I did to deserve his trust, but I am determined not to waste it. By the will of the gods, they allowed me to be as sly as he sometimes is. I can understand the way he thinks, yet sometimes I can choose to think of completely other ways."

* * *

Ragnar was sitting on the terrace beside the great hall, watching over Kattegat's big square. With the growth of the town, the place adjoining the great hall that had once been the market place had now become the main square and the market had moved to another place. He watched as Floki shivered, chained to his pole, as Aslaug's new slave, Yidu, was trying to catch a chicken and how his sons fought with wooden swords. His granddaughters were sitting together at his feet, playing together.

Bjorn walked up to him and sat down on the planks next to his father.

"I've come to tell you that I'm going away", Bjorn stated.

"To your mother's?" Ragnar wanted to know.

"No", Bjorn replied.

"To find Thorunn?" Ragnar asked.

"No", Bjorn told him, "I will go out into the wilderness. Away from everything – To find out if I can survive."

"Where will you go?" Ragnar queried.

"I already know a place", Bjorn told him, "A hunter's lodge in the interior."

"Then you better leave soon", Ragnar smiled, "Before the winter freeze. But I think you are making another foolish decision. Why are you really going?"

"Because you don't think I can survive", Bjorn told his father.

Ragnar watched his son walk off, before he stood up from his chair. Supported by his crutch, he made his way towards Floki shivering in his thin shirt.

"Are you going to kill me?" the boat builder wanted to know.

"You betrayed my trust and my love for you", Ragnar accused him.

"I tried to save you from a false god", Floki replied.

"You killed Athelstan out of jealousy", Ragnar said, "Just admit it."

"I did as the gods commanded", Floki told him, "And I would do it again."

* * *

Bjorn was ready to leave for his hunter's lodge. He had put on a thick cloak, covered in fur. On his back, he was carrying his shield, his weapons and everything else he would need to survive for the coming months. He hugged his siblings tightly.

"Boys, keep an eye on Ragnar for me", he told them, "He is not as strong as he would like to think he is. See you in spring."

"Bye, Bjorn", the four boys said. Bjorn stepped towards Sansa and hugged her tightly.

"Forgive me for being angry", Bjorn whispered as he planted a light kiss on the crown of her skull, "I know you only meant well, and I'm glad that you are here."

"It's alright, brother", Sansa murmured, "Good luck!"

They all watched as Bjorn wandered away, disappearing in the distance.

* * *

Rollo was riding on a horse towards the Viking camp. The warriors opened the gates and Rollo stopped right outside.

Suddenly, bolts were raining down on them from all sides, as the Franks began their attack. Women and children screamed, as they were all hit. Erik was standing over the bleeding body of his wife, looking at Rollo.

"Stay there, coward!" he yelled, "Death is easy for us, but not for you, traitor!"

The warriors formed a shield wall and began to charge at Rollo, who awaited them on his horse, surrounded by Frankish soldiers. They fired their crossbows and the shield wall shattered a few steps before they reached Rollo.

"Rollo! You have betrayed your own kind!" Erik yelled, standing alone, "We shall be revenged! Ragnar is coming!"

Erik was hit by a bolt in the chest and fell to the ground.

"Ragnar will revenge us."

 _ **XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

 _A/N: I am sure, many of you are afraid I will continue writing more Vikings than GoT in this story. Surely this chapter has left this impression. But be assured, I have written a couple of chapters in advance, and I have some more characters of GoT in there as well...  
_

 _I hope you liked it and don't forget to review!_


	36. Kill the Queen

_A/N: Vikings Season 4 - with some more GoT-characters appearing...  
_

 ** _Thank you for your reviews! As well as all those who follow or favorited this story!  
_**

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of Thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 **Chapter 35 Kill the Queen**

The man was wandering through the northern landscape. The snow was high enough the reach his hip and he had to fight it every step of the way. Alone, he marched through the frozen woods and over icy plains.

Finally, his eyes met a small hut, exactly where he had been expecting it. Bjorn Ironside took a deep breath. The first part of his journey was over.

* * *

Night had fallen over Kattegat. Ragnar was still awake, eating soup from a bowl, when the dogs outside all began to bark. Ragnar rolled his eyes. He had hoped it would not have come to this, but it wasn't unexpected either.

One of the guards entered and stood before him.

"Floki has escaped, King Ragnar", he reported.

"Of course he has", Ragnar commented. When the guard was just standing there, he added, "What are you waiting for? Go find him!"

* * *

The noble guest was watching as the walls of Paris grew higher in front of him. His horse was breathing heavily from the long journey. He and his companions had reached the western coast of the Frankish realm and had ever since spent their days on the road towards Paris.

"Lord Baelish?" the guard on his right addressed him, "We have reached Paris."

Littlefinger nodded slightly. He took in the overwhelming view of the city. The Queen was right, he thought, their walls are indeed higher than those around King's Landing. And if those Northmen could scale the walls of Paris, they could very well scale the walls of King's Landing. Which made his mission even more important.

* * *

Many warriors were running over the acres and fields, guided by the dogs. They were breathing heavily, hoping to catch up with Floki. Ubba and Hvitserk were amongst them.

* * *

The nobles of Wessex had been summoned by their King. Sitting on his throne, Egbert let his son inform them of the latest events.

"We have some unexpected and unwelcome news", Athelwulf began, "Queen Kwentrith of Mercia has been overthrown by several of her nobles, who have set themselves up as a ruling council. The Queen and her son have been imprisoned in a tower somewhere."

"I have already summoned King Aelle here", Egbert told them, "In the meantime, I expect you to call your men to arms. It may well be that we have to use force to overcome them this time."

* * *

Out on the piers, Sansa helped to prepare the boats for the coming winter. Oars were unloaded and stored, the canvas of the sails as well as most of the ropes had to be removed, before the winter set in. Otherwise it would rot.

Sansa had never had problems with this work, not since her arrival in Kattegat. Before, she would have been reluctant to physical labor, but having been a slave once, had cured her effectively from any arrogance, except for her shieldmaiden's pride.

She stopped for a moment to watch her daughters chasing each other along the beach. It was Arya's turn, only to be distinguished from her twin sister by a slightly longer curls of reddish hair that was flying behind her.

* * *

In Wessex, the new recruits had been given their weapons, before they were now drilled in the handling of swords, shields and spears. King Egbert watched proudly over them, the basis for his new army.

* * *

Littlefinger was having a private audience with his Highness, the Emperor Charles. All servants had been banned from the room, and in respect to Petyr Baelish's knowledge of the Frankish language not even an interpreter was needed.

"So you've come here all the way from Westeros to ask me if the rumors are true?" Charles inquired.

"I am entirely sure they are true", littlefinger smiled, "We have all heard about their attacks on the English Kingdoms. Now they have set their eyes on you."

"What do you want?" Charles asked.

"I am here to offer my condolences about the loss of so many of your men and the sack of this beautiful city", Littlefinger told him.

"I might not be as clever as you, Lord Baelish", Charles spat, "But I don't believe, the Hand of the Queen on the Iron Throne would come all the way from King's Landing, just to offer condolences. What do you want?"

"Your Highness, her Grace, the Queen Cersei, has commanded me to learn more about these Northmen", Littlefinger explained, his face official and polite, "And what we could do to prevent them from attacking our shores."

* * *

Helga was holding her daughter on her knees and sitting in the boathouse out by the shipyards. She turned around startled, when Ragnar entered and sat down next to her.

"Did you free Floki, Helga?" Ragnar asked. Helga looked afraid.

"I don't know", she stammered, "I might have helped."

"I don't blame you", Ragnar assured her, "It is your duty as a wife."

"Floki loves you", Helga told him.

"He only loves himself", Ragnar objected, "You know that better than anyone. In any case, it will soon be winter. You and your child will need to eat."

Ragnar placed a sack filled with grain in front of Helga, enough to bring them both through the winter. Then he stood up and left without another word.

* * *

Out on the chase, the group found a burned down campfire.

"Check those ashes", Ubba told them.

"It is still warm", the warrior said, "He cannot be far away from us."

* * *

In Wessex, Judith was sitting sadly on the table facing King Egbert.

"Judith, what is it?" the King asked.

"I have just seen my husband ride away into the greatest danger", Judith reminded him, "How do you think I feel? And even though you are King, you cannot force me to share your bed."

"I would never dream of forcing you to anything", Egbert told her, "Force is only necessary against one's enemies. I want you to be free."

"Free?!" Judith asked in confusion.

"I believe you have never been free since you were born", Egbert told her, "Being a princess, you lived in a gilded cage. But a cage nevertheless."

"So how would you set me _free?_ " Judith queried.

"What do you want to do?" Egbert asked, "If you could choose freely, what do you want to do?"

Judith thought for a moment.

"I would like to be a painter", she decided, "Like Athelstan."

* * *

Sansa watched in dismay, as her father stared at the empty pole, where Floki had been chained up. She understood, why he needed to be found. After all, the King had very little power if anyone could just escape his punishment.

"They will get him", she told Ragnar as she sat down next to him.

"I know", Ragnar said, deep in his thoughts, "But I can't decide on what to do with him."

* * *

Floki was stumbling through the river. He followed its path, running through the shallow water to distract the dogs, he was sure the hunters would use.

* * *

Carefully stitching the leather pieces of her battlejacket together, Sansa was so concentrated, that she only looked up when she felt a tug on her skirt. She looked up from her work and saw Gyda standing there, showing her a big, mossy stone.

"Did you find it?" Sansa smiled at her daughter.

"presn'" Gyda managed to say, breathing heavily to keep the comparatively heavy stone from falling down.

"A present?" Sansa asked, "For me? Thank you."

"Mmmh", Gyda grinned at her mother before she dropped the rock and Sansa cuddled her. While she enjoyed hugging her daughter, she could not help but wonder how she had become like this. Once her needlework would have decorated the finest dresses, now she was patching up armor.

* * *

Rollo, Count Odo and Roland were standing around a table. Although they could not talk with Rollo, a model of the river Seine had been placed on the table. Rollo placed two wooden blocks on either side of the imaginary river.

"Two forts on either side of the river", Roland agreed.

"But how will he stop them from sailing past the forts?" Count Odo wanted to know. When Rollo looked blankly at him, Odo took the scaled boats, representing the Viking Fleet and moved it past the forts.

Rollo held up his hand, gesturing him to stop. Next he hung a small chain from one fort to the other, stopping the ships, when Odo moved them again. Odo laughed.

"Good", he complimented Rollo and turned to leave. Rollo held up his hand and waved him back. Rollo took another ship and moved it from the model of Paris towards the Viking Fleet.

"He tells us to build more boats, capable of attacking the northmen on the water", Roland understood.

* * *

In the evening, Odo was talking to Therese, his lover.

"Duke Rollo's sound and interesting advice for the protection of Paris will be very useful", Odo told her, "I must admit I am pleased twice, for Princess Gisela was so frightened to marry him. You remember, her face in the cathedral, I suppose?"

"Of course I remember", Therese told him, "It was a good sight. But I have to ask, are you not bitter that the Emperor claims all of the glory for the siege of Paris?"

"I admit, the sight of this little man sickens me", Odo admitted, "Especially when I recall how cowardly he acted during the siege."

* * *

Bjorn had left his hut and had wandered out on the frozen lake. He hacked a hole through the ice with his axe and hung a fishing line with several hooks and baits into the water.

* * *

Rollo was looking nervously at his shortened hair, hanging from his head in front of his face. A servant was still cutting it, according to the usual Frankish looks. He was also clad in a silken tunic, trying to look like a Frankish nobleman was supposed to look.

Hoping this would help him win his wife's love, he had finally agreed to this. When the servant was done with the hair, Rollo was clad in a heavy, long coat of fine fabric, decorated with beautifully stitched patterns.

The door opened and Princess Gisela entered the room, accompanied by several of her handmaids. Nervously, Rollo stood before her, acutely aware of all the eyes on him. Smiling lightly, he tried to bow before Gisela as the Franks did, his hands stretched out wide and his head deep.

Gisela stood before him in utter surprise, not knowing what to say. For a moment, Rollo thought he had won her approval, then the princess burst out in loud laughter.

* * *

Floki was drinking water from the river, when he was hearing dogs bark. Looking up, he saw the hunters closing in on him.

When the group led by Ubba reached the point, where Floki had just been, and the boatbuilder was nowhere to be seen. The men looked around, clueless, until Ubba glanced over the small basin on the river.

"He's here!" he called. Two warriors quickly jumped into the water and dragged Floki out.

* * *

"Mylord Baelish, it has been a long time", Count Odo greeted Littlefinger as they met in the Count's office in the castle.

"Indeed it has", Petyr replied, "How are you, my friend?"

"Well, thank you", Odo smiled, "Please take a seat. Now tell me, what bring you all the way here from Westeros?"

"In short, the northmen", Littlefinger grinned, "My Queen has expressed her desire to learn more about them so we can hopefully keep them from reaching our shores."

"You've come to the right person then", Odo replied, "I will later show you some of the plans we're making to prevent another attack. Wine?"

"Sure", Littlefinger replied before he took the offered goblet.

"I hear the Emperor himself was wounded during the sack of the city?" Littlefinger asked, "Did he actually turn out to be like his grandfather?"

"You mean that he fought himself?" Odo clarified, "God no! He was most craven, I have to say. I even begged him to join when the hearts of my men were failing but he refused to put himself in danger."

"Then how was he wounded?" Littlefinger wanted to know.

"He wasn't. He fainted when the northmen's king turned out to be alive", Odo explained, "The daughter of this King Ragnar let herself be taken prisoner and he was reportedly dying of his wounds. He asked us for a Christian burial, apparently he wanted to see an old friend in heaven. Then during the service, he turned out to be alive and his daughter was clued in with that ploy. They kidnapped the Princess Gisela and opened the gates of the city."

"That is an extraordinary story indeed", Littlefinger acknowledged, "So you are not pleased with your Emperor's behavior during the siege?"

"Careful now, we both know that this sounds a lot like high treason", Odo warned him, "But I have to admit, the sight of that little, weak man makes me feel sick."

"The Frankish realm needs a strong leader", Petyr agreed, "Someone like you."

* * *

Loud cheers greeted them, as the warriors brought Floki before Ragnar. His hands were tied tightly and he was dragged by several men.

"The great Floki", Ragnar mocked, "Captured by mere children. Why didn't the gods help you escape? Why didn't they hide you better? Could it be that the gods were not interested? What do you say, Floki?"

"I said it all", Floki said stubbornly.

"You made me suffer", Ragnar told him, "And now, I shall make you suffer. I have such a wonderful punishment for you – and it goes on and on and on…"

* * *

Littlefinger was looking out of the windows of his rooms. They were well placed within the castle, almost as good as the rooms of the most important members of the court. The windows allowed a great view over the river and the city.

Sighing contently, he laid down on his bed. It was indeed fortunate, that the Frankish Emperor had wed his daughter to one of the northmen. Soon he would be able to find out everything he might need to know.

* * *

Ragnar stormed into the empty great hall, kicking aside a chair. Aslaug left the bedroom and intercepted him.

"Why are you so angry?" she asked.

"Because Floki still refuses to admit why he did what he did", Ragnar shouted.

"What did he do that was wrong?" Aslaug asked, "All he did was to kill a Christian. What should he be punished for?"

Ragnar slapped her in the face.

"This is not about Christians or faith", he told her, "It's about loyalty and trust – something you don't understand."

From behind the curtain, Sansa had been watching. When Ragnar entered her room, she whirled around.

"Are you spying on me now?" he asked. Sansa was unable to determine whether his voice sounded angry or mocking.

"Wasn't it you who told me, there is nothing worse than not knowing?" Sansa recalled, "You should give her a break for what happened with Harbard."

"I will give her a break, when I decide to", Ragnar refused stubbornly.

"Does she know about that English Queen?" Sansa suggested, "What do you think mother would do if she found out?"

* * *

In Mercia, the group of Wessex' soldiers, led by Athelwulf, arrived near the tower where Queen Kwentrith was held prisoner. Two men on horses rode up to the gate of the surrounding walls, and placed hooks and ropes on the gate. Covered by archers, they rode back, pulling the gate violently open. The Mercian Soldiers attacked them right in the doorway.

In the meantime, Athelwulf and several other climbed over the walls on the opposing side. When the Mercian commander saw them, he ordered, "KILL THE QUEEN!"

Inside the tower, Kwentrith looked at the female guard in horror, as she drew a knife. Kwentrith rammed her knitting needle into her eye. The guard fell to the floor, dying. Another female guard lunged forward, ready to kill. Quickly Kwentrith grabbed a chair and smashed it over her head.

* * *

Despite the icy wind, Bjorn carefully walked out to the hole in the ice. He pulled on his line, retrieving a trout from the lake. He quickly put it into his pocket, planning on cooking soup with it later.

In the evening, Bjorn was sitting by the campfire outside his hut, watching the fish in the kettle boil. In the far distance, the wind carried the howl of wolves to his ears.

* * *

Ragnar was looking surprised, when he found Helga outside the shipyard, working hard to dig through the surface of the frozen soil.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked.

"I am trying to dig a grave for my daughter", Helga sobbed.

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 _A/N: So, Littlefinger cannot keep himself from playing with his allies..._

 _I hope you liked it and don't forget to review!_


	37. Mercy

_A/N: Vikings Season 4 - with some more GoT-characters appearing...  
_

 ** _Thank you for your reviews! As well as all those who follow or favorited this story!  
_**

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of Thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 **Chapter 36 Mercy**

The water dripped slowly from the ceiling of the cave. The man standing there screamed in agony as the drops sprinkled on the crown of his skull. Standing involuntarily, to be true. Floki's hands had been tied the ropes holding him upright. Unable to move his head wide enough to get out of the way of the water drops, he had been left here for days.

* * *

Kalf was standing outside the great hall of Hedeby, pissing in the dirt, when Erlendur stepped beside him.

"Bjorn Ragnarsson has left Kattegat and is now living alone in a hut in the interior", Erlendur told Kalf, "It is the perfect opportunity to kill him."

Kalf looked confused, his mind wandering back to Lagertha who was waiting for him in bed.

"I thought, we came together to destroy the family of Ragnar Lothbrok", Erlendur insisted, "This was your ambition as it is mine. I will not rest until my father's death is avenged."

"I agree", Kalf said, "It is the perfect opportunity. And I also know the perfect man for the job – a berserker."

* * *

Lord Petyr Baelish, littlefinger, as he was called behind his back, was angry with himself. Not that he'd done anything wrong, but he forgot a small but important detail in his plans. With Rollo unable to speak the Frankish language, it was entirely impossible to inquire about tactics and intentions of the northmen.

* * *

Near a small creek, Bjorn set up a trap for wild animals. Carefully, he pried the iron spikes open, before setting it on the ground. The chain he tied to a tree standing nearby. Finally, he took a handful of snow and sprinkled it over, concealing the trap.

* * *

Helga was holding a wooden bowl over Floki's head, keeping the dripping water away from him, and allowing her husband a moment of sleep. Her arms were aching badly, as she poured the water on the ground, stumbling from exhaustion.

The next drop hit Floki's head again, and he woke up in pain. Letting out a small cry, he closed his eyes, trying fruitlessly to shut the pain out.

"I'm sorry", he mumbled, as Helga quickly stepped back into her position, holding the bowl up again.

* * *

Rollo was watching in confusion as the priests carried a wooden statue towards them. They placed in on a stand and the Emperor stepped forward and kissed the statue's feet.

"Today is the feast of St. Eulalia", Charles told them.

At the table, Rollo and Gisela were sitting on either side of Charles, both eating their meals.

"Forgive me, father", Gisela began, "St. Eulalia, why was she sainted?"

"Eulalia was martyred by the pagan roman emperor Maximus", Charles told her, "She refused to renounce her Christian faith, so she was burned at the pyre. But the flames did not touch her."

"What did they do to her?" Gisela asked.

"She was beheaded", Charles declared, "Her naked body was thrown onto the forum, for everyone to see. But god sent a blanket of snow, to protect her modesty."

"My husband is exactly like this pagan emperor", Gisela declared loudly, "He probably wants to burn me alive or cut off my head!"

"Woman,…" Rollo began, but was interrupted by Gisela.

"Don't touch me!" she screamed, "I will never be your woman!"

Gisela grabbed the cup of wine and splashed it into Rollo's face.

"I want a divorce", she told her father, "Arrange it."

The princess turned around and stormed out of the room. Rollo stood there, staring helplessly at her. Slowly he emptied his glass and jumped on the table. Making grimaces at the Franks and screaming like the mad savage they saw in him, he scared them.

Rollo had entered a small room, followed by Count Odo.

"Your Grace", Odo began, then gesturing with his hands, "Paris… You… me… together…"

Rollo looked at him and nodded, then pointed at a book. He opened it and gestured as if he were reading it, then moving his mouth.

"You want to speak our language?" Odo asked, "I will find you a teacher."

* * *

Ragnar entered the prison cave, just as Helga was giving Floki a cup of water to drink. Looking at her inquiringly, he asked, "You haven't told him, Helga, have you?"

"No", she whimpered, as Ragnar walked away.

"What is he talking about?" Floki asked, "What did you not tell me?"

"Our daughter", Helga sobbed, "She's dead. She caught a fever, there was nothing I could do…"

* * *

Bjorn cried out in frustration as he saw the empty trap. The spikes had been reddened by blood, so obviously, an animal had triggered it, but apparently, it had managed to tear itself free again.

He followed the bloody trail until he found the torn off leg of a caribou at the end. It took him a moment to realize what it meant. A bear or possibly a wolf. Quickly resetting the trap, Bjorn grabbed the led with still a piece of meat on it, before heading back.

* * *

Sansa felt her heart tear apart, as she had to listen to her daughter's screams. Gyda had been pushed by Arya and scraped her knee on a sharp rock. Now the girls were sitting in front of their mother, Arya trying to look not guilty and Gyda sobbing. Sansa sighed and put a piece of cloth in a little hot water, before she began to wash the wound.

"Shh. Gyda", she tried to calm her, "It's going to be alright."

Finally, the little girl's wailing stopped and Sansa quickly tied a fresh piece of cloth around the wound as a bandage.

* * *

In Wessex, Princess Judith was talking to the monk that Egbert had hired to teach her the art of painting. Although reluctant at first, Father Prudentius had begun to show Judith the secrets of painting.

"Prudentius, you are a Frank", Judith began, "What do you know about the recent attack on Paris by the northmen?"

"Who hasn't heard about it", Prudentius said, "The city is well known all over Europe. I have already heard many details about the attack."

"I heard it was besieged?" Judith hinted.

"Yes, a sail from every quarter. How these poor Christian people must have suffered…" Prudentius told her.

"But they triumphed?" Judith wanted to confirm.

"Of course they triumphed", Prudentius smiled, "God was on their side. Many of the Northmen who entered the cathedral were afterwards struck down by disease."

"Do you know about the identity of the Northmen?" Judith inquired.

"It is said, that they were led by the famous Viking Ragnar Lothbrok, the scourge of God", Prudentius recalled, "He pretended to be dead to enter the cathedral along with his daughter, who let herself be taken as a hostage and opened the gates from inside."

"Is there any mentioning of an English monk?" Judith asked, "He might have been fighting with Ragnar's band?"

"A Christian?" Prudentius wanted to know, "If it is true, he should be caught and crucified."

* * *

Later in the evening, Judith was sitting with Egbert, spreading the news.

"Pretending to be dead", Egbert said in awe, "How like our Ragnar! You cannot fault his ingenuity."

"And Sansa let herself be taken prisoner, only to be able to enter the city", Judith added.

"A brave idea", Egbert agreed, "They should have killed her the moment she had entered the city."

"He had no news of Athelstan however", Judith said.

* * *

Bjorn was out in the woods, checking his traps, when he heard a roar. Looking up, he saw a gigantic bear stand close by. The bear roared and Bjorn's hand automatically went to his belt where he kept his axe. His fingers found nothing. Looking down, he realized that he must have forgotten the axe in his cabin.

The bear roared once more and Bjorn gulped heavily. Knowing that if he would run, the bear would inevitably chase after him and kill him, Bjorn sat there, afraid to move. To his great relief, the bear turned around and walked away in the snow.

* * *

Fleeing from Mercia, Kwentrith was clutching her arms tightly, trying to stay warm in the freezing wind. Her son was at her side and she looked up as Athelwulf walked up to them.

"We have to light a fire", she told him.

"We can't", Athelwulf refused, "We're still in Mercia."

"Look at my child", Kwentrith pleaded, "He is freezing to death."

Athelwulf thought for a moment, then handed her his own cloak, wrapping it tightly around the Mercian prince.

* * *

Sansa was smiling down at her girls, lying in their bed, almost asleep.

"Story", Gyda demanded. Sansa smiled at her.

"A story? Of course", she answered, "The God Baldr was Odin's favorite son. And so the other gods agreed there must never be any danger to him. They made everything swear an oath that he would not be harmed. Then they tested the oaths – they threw rocks at him, they tried to cut him with swords, but nothing could harm him. Only the god Loki disagreed, he was determined to find a way to kill Baldr..."

Sansa stopped as she realized that the girls' eyes had already been shut.

* * *

Bjorn returned to the cabin, where he found his axe lying on the stack of firewood. Angry at himself for forgetting it, he placed it on his belt.

When he turned around and was about to walk off again, his eyes caught something, hidden behind the firewood. He pulled it out, revealing a small barrel. Curious, he hacked a small hole in the top, releasing a smell of strong alcohol. Hungrily, he drank a few gulps, then let out a loud cry as he felt the warmth pass through him.

He sat next to his fire, outside of the frozen lake. Drinking from the barrel, he stared at the sky where the polar lights gleamed alongside the stars. Howling into the night, he rejoiced when the wolves answered in the save distance. Finally, Bjorn fell asleep in the snow.

* * *

Ragnar was cleaning fish with his children, while he was telling a story.

"Thor came to this deep channel", he said, "And on the far bank, he saw a man stand on a flat bottom boat. 'Hey!' yelled Thor, 'Are you the ferryman?' 'If you want to cross, you have to tell me your name!' the ferryman said."

Ubba, Hvitserk and Sigurd completely forgot their fish while they were listening to the story. Aslaug smiled, holding Ivar.

"'I am the son of Odin, the strongest God of all! So, ferryman, you are talking to Thor!' The god's words made waves across the water and they broke at the ferryman's feet", Ragnar told them, "'Now tell me your name!' Thor yelled. The ferryman stood up and yelled, 'My name is Harbard!"

Sansa watched as her adopted siblings were following every word of their father.

"Have you ever met Harbard?" Hvitserk wanted to know.

"No, not I", Ragnar shot Aslaug an angry glance, "Perhaps your mother has?"

"We must eat now", Aslaug said, gathering the boys, while Ragnar stayed behind, cleaning the fish.

Sansa took her knife in her hand and began to clean another fish.

"Don't you think, you should let it go?" she asked as the others had disappeared inside.

"No", Ragnar said, "Why should I let it go?"

"New try, _would you please let it go?"_ Sansa insisted.

"Why should I?" Ragnar asked, "She was unfaithful."

"As were you", Sansa reminded him, "Repeatedly. Either you let it go, or I will suddenly remember what I have seen in England…"

"Very well, Sansa", Ragnar finally gave in, "I promise, I'll try."

"Thank you, father", Sansa smiled broadly.

* * *

When Bjorn awoke in the morning, his beard and hair was frozen. Still on a high from the wine, he felt invincible. Deciding to kill the bear that was in the area, he carefully readied his dagger and axe.

Hidden in the woods, he sat there, waiting for the bear. He looked up, when he heard a roar, not far from him. Gripping his weapons tightly, Bjorn ran towards the bear, screaming loudly.

When Bjorn came close to the bear, it roared loudly and went on his back paws. Towering high above Bjorn, the bear let his claw come down on the young man, sweeping him off his feet. The bear opened his jaws and came down crashing on Bjorn.

Bjorn frantically stabbed him in the side of his neck and the bear let himself distract enough to allow Bjorn to crawl away. Once he had gotten away, Bjorn staggered to his feet and turned around, just in time to see the bear running towards him. Bjorn picked up his axe and with his last effort buried it in the bear's skull. The animal's blood spurted high and reddened Bjorn's face, as the bear collapsed, while Bjorn tried to catch his breath.

Later in the evening, Bjorn was sitting in front of his cabin, looking down on his chest. The bear had left a wound, where his claws had struck Bjorn's chest. By now, Bjorn had taken apart the bear, the pelt hanging from a wooden frame, the meat ready to be eaten.

Bjorn took his dagger from the fire, where he had been heating it. The metal was glowing red and without hesitation, Bjorn pressed it onto his bleeding flesh. A grunt escaped his lips as the smell of burnt flesh waved through the air.

* * *

 _Ragnar was sitting in the great hall at night, on his chair. A monk entered and placed a bowl of water in front of him, before he began to wash the Viking's feet._

 _As the man pulled down his hood, he revealed himself as Athelstan. Looking deep in Ragnar's eyes, he continued to wash his feet._

" _Mercy", Athelstan said, "Mercy."_

 _Ragnar leaned forward, his hand raised, trying to touch the English monk, but his fingers only felt the cold air. Athelstan was gone._

Sweat running from his brow, Ragnar awoke in his bed.

* * *

Littlefinger was standing at the window in the palace, overlooking the city of Paris, when someone stepped behind him.

"You wanted to see the preparations for the defense of Paris?" Roland asked, "Count Odo has asked me to show you."

"Very well", Petyr agreed before following Roland to one of the chambers in the castle.

"Tell me, Roland, What do you think of Count Odo?" Petyr wanted to know.

"Forgive me, Lord Baelish", Roland said, "But I don't think, it is my place to talk about my direct superior. Here the walls have ears."

"But if I insisted?" Petyr smiled.

"Then I would say, he's an excellent commander", Roland replied.

"What if I told you that he has the ambition to become Emperor?" Littlefinger hinted, "He might not be such a great commander then…"

"If that's true, it's high treason", Rolland agreed, "I would have to report that to the Emperor."

* * *

Egbert and Judith rushed outside to greet the returning Athelwulf and their guests, the Queen and the prince of Mercia.

"Thank god, you are save", Egbert declared loudly, facing Kwentrith.

"I do thank god a lot", Kwentrith replied, "But also your son, Athelwulf. He saved me and my son from certain death."

Egbert bowed down to the little boy.

"So this is Magnus", he said, "The son of Ragnar Lothbrok."

"And heir to the throne of Mercia", Kwentrith reminded him.

* * *

In the free city of Bravos, an old woman was sitting next to another woman, considerably younger.

"So you want to promise a name to the many-faced god?" the young woman asked.

"I do", Cersei Lannister replied.

"The service of the faceless men has its price", the young woman told her.

"I can pay the price", Cersei stated firmly, "I am willing to pay any price for the death of this bitch."

"Then, all I need is a name", the young woman smiled.

* * *

Bjorn walked out to his fishing hole in the ice, only wrapped in his bear pelt. He shivered when he dropped it on the ground. Hesitating for a moment, Bjorn gathered his courage, before diving headfirst into the icy water.

After a while, Bjorn came up again, screaming loudly. His hands gripped the sharp edges of the ice, and he pushed himself out of the water.

* * *

Ragnar was walking out of his bedroom, passing Aslaug, Sansa and several servants in the main room of the great hall. He took a big axe from one of the guards and walked off.

Helga looked up, when Ragnar entered the prison cave, holding the axe in his hand. Despite her exhaustion, she was still holding the bowl over Floki's head, trying to give him as much comfort as she possibly could.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, her voice weak.

"You have suffered enough, Helga", Ragnar said, before he cut through the ropes that tied Floki upright.

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 _A/N: Littlefinger is initiating the mistrust between the Frankish leaders, while Cersei plans for an assasination. Let's hope it will all turn out well!_

 _Don't forget to review!_


	38. Yol

_A/N: Vikings Season 4  
_

 _This chapter is only focused on Vikings, a stranger is arriving in Kattegat..._

 ** _Thank you for your reviews! As well as all those who follow or favorited this story!  
_**

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of Thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 **Chapter 37 Yol**

Ragnar dove up from the water of his bathtub.

"Death intrigues me", he stated, "Death of children, death of friends. But my own death escapes me."

Aslaug's new slave was carrying a bucket of water to him.

"In my world, you must have had your life worth living, before you can even consider death", she said.

"In my world", Ragnar told her, "I am constantly torn between killing myself or everyone around me."

"I am a slave", the slave reminded him, "I have the same feelings."

"A king and a slave", Ragnar laughed, "Who would have thought? We have both the duty to serve others – whether we like it or not."

The slave attempted to lift the bucket and fill the water to the bathtub, when it slipped from her fingers. A puddle of water appeared on the floor and she was feverishly trying to clean it. Ragnar looked at her in mock disapproval.

"What is your name?" he asked.

"Yidu", the slave answered.

* * *

In Wessex, Queen Kwentrith of Mercia, King Aelle of Northumbria and King Egbert of Wessex were sitting on the table.

"So, how do we deal with this ruling Council?" Aelle asked.

"You must invade Mercia", Kwentrith pointed out, "Overthrow the ruling council by force."

"And you are queen again?" Aelle asked, "With your son as the heir to the throne of Mercia?"

"Of course, King Aelle", Kwentrith smiled, "And I would have to thank you for it."

"The son of Ragnar Lothbrok", Aelle stated, "I once swore an oath before god and all his angels to kill Ragnar Lothbrok for his unprovoked and merciless attack upon my people."

"And would you kill his bastard son as well?" Kwentrith wanted to know.

* * *

The whole of Kattegat sounded from the drums and the cheers, as the men brought a big log to the great hall. They placed it in the fire, before they turned to Ragnar and his family. They were all seating on their chairs.

"May the gods smile on you, King Ragnar", one of them said, "And may the fire in your hearth warm you like the love of your people!"

Everyone cheered. Yidu, the slave stepped out of the bedroom and approached Aslaug.

"Ivar is awake now", she whispered, "He's crying for you."

Aslaug stood up and walked to the bedroom, Ragnar following closely. When he entered the room, Aslaug was holding Ivar in her arms.

"Ivar, look! That's mistletoe", Ragnar said, placing a branch in Ivar's small hands, "It's magical."

He took the boy from his mother's arms and carried him over to the door.

"Put it in there", Ragnar encouraged him, "Just like your brothers."

"I don't want to", Ivar complained.

"Give him to me", Aslaug said, taking him back into her own hands.

"If he wants to be like the other boys, let him be like them", Ragnar said.

"He's not like the other boys", Aslaug cried.

"If you treat him like a cripple he will be one", Sansa said as she entered the room.

"He's my responsibility", Aslaug insisted.

"I love him just as much as you do", Ragnar told his wife.

"You don't act like it", Aslaug told him.

* * *

Rollo was standing next to Gisela, when the door opened and a man in a long, red cloak entered.

"Duke Rollo", he began, "By the power invested in me by his holiness, the pope, I have come here to serve you the papers ending your marriage with the Princess Gisela. Since the marriage has not been consummated, according to Christian law, it doesn't exist."

The cardinal turned to one of the Parisian Priests.

"Abbot Lupus", he addressed him, "I understand that this… Northman doesn't understand me?"

"What do you know?" Rollo barked, "I understand everything. I have learnt your language."

Rollo turned to the princess.

"Princess Gisela, I beg you not to do this", he pleaded, "I know that my destiny is to be with you. And like you, I am prepared to defend Paris to the death."

Gisela had listened with her mouth open in surprise, now she tried to gather her thoughts. "Leave us", she ordered the others.

"I have come all the way from Rome", the cardinal protested.

"Surely you will find refreshments somewhere else in the palace", Gisela told him. The cardinal, Count Odo, the priests and guards all left the room, leaving only Rollo and Gisela.

When they were alone, Gisela turned to Rollo.

"So you've confessed your love and devotion", she stated, "I don't pretend it doesn't touch me that you've learned our language. Let me ask you something: What is more important to you – our marriage, your appointment by the Emperor or your Viking soul?"

"Did I not kill all of my own warriors?" Rollo reminded her.

"Yes", Gisela agreed, "And I think that's a very Viking thing to do… It may not have meant anything to you."

Rollo thought for a moment, then pulled his armring off his wrist.

"This means something to me", he said as he handed it to Gisela, "This is personal – Do with it what you will."

* * *

Aslaug was sitting on the bed, next to Ragnar.

"I saw you looking at my slave Yidu", she said, "Don't pretend to be asleep, I know that you can hear me."

"If you want to spend some time with her, I can arrange it", Aslaug offered, "I wouldn't mind. I won't be jealous."

"If that is what you want", Ragnar murmured.

* * *

The next day, Sansa sewing on one of her dresses, when she was pushed over by Sigurd.

"Sigurd! Stop it!" Sansa laughed as the boy tickled her.

Pouting, he sat down next to her.

"But I want to play", he insisted. Sansa smiled down on him.

"I know, but I don't have time right now", she told him, "I have to finish this dress."

* * *

Ragnar watched as Yidu desperately tried to herd pigs together in a hold. She was cursing loudly in a foreign language. When she dropped her shoulder is despair he walked over and dragged her away on her arm.

"Tell me how you became a slave", he commanded, "Obviously, you weren't born into it. You're not very good at it."

"I was sailing with members of my family", Yidu recalled, "Pirates came aboard. They slaughtered some, others they kept for sale. They separated me from my brothers and they…"

"Raped you?" Ragnar asked.

"No, they did not dare to rape me", Yidu told him, "They took me on a long journey. For days and weeks, and now I am here – wherever here is. It has been so long since I knew where I was or where I belonged. I guess it is stupid for a slave to worry over such things. A slave does not really exist."

Ragnar draped a blanket around her shoulders.

"I want to show you something", he said.

* * *

Bjorn finished the new tattoo on his forearm. Then he packed all his gear together and opened the door of the hut. It was a clear day, no snow falling from the sky. Looking back, he stepped outside and closed the door for the last time.

* * *

Yidu entered the dark house on the far bank of the fjord, a long walk outside of Kattegat. Mice were squealing on the floor and Yidu was startled, when the door was shut loudly behind her.

Ragnar quickly walked over to the hearth in the middle of the room. Using a flintstone and a piece of steel, he quickly lit it.

"What is this place?" Yidu asked as she tried to see something in the twilight.

"Mine", Ragnar said, as he blew carefully on the straw, "Although no one has ever come here, it is the only place where I feel never alone. If you want, you can come and go as you like."

"What about my duties as a slave?" Yidu queried.

"They're no longer wanted", Ragnar told her, "I dismiss you as a slave. You're useless."

"Is it true?" Yidu wanted to know.

"Yes, you are a useless slave", Ragnar said with a smile.

"No, I mean that I can come and go as I want", Yidu inquired. Ragnar nodded in agreement.

* * *

Bjorn was walking through the frozen woods as an eerie feeling crept upon him. Looking around, he drew his axe from his belt and carefully walked on.

A warning from his instincts came just in time to let him duck before a sword almost took his head off. He swung his axe at the attacker, missing him completely. He parried a second swing of the sword with his axe, but before he was able to retaliate, the attacker had vanished before his eyes.

Always looking over his back, Bjorn walked on through the woods. His attacker appeared before him, swinging his sword and hitting Bjorn in the face, leaving a nasty cut on his cheek, missing his eye only by a little. Bjorn turned and faced his attacker, blocking the next blow with his axehandle. The force of the blow tore through the wood and the axehead flew away into the snow. Bjorn looked down at his useless weapon, then had to jump backwards to avoid a cut aimed at his belly. He scrambled away, and the attacker disappeared again in the fog.

His dagger ready to defend himself, Bjorn prepared his fishing hooks as a weapon. He tied several of his lines together, like a whip with metal hooks on the ends. Putting his dagger back into its scabbard, Bjorn made his way through the woods.

He looked down when he felt something tug on his pants. He had almost stepped into one of his own traps. Luckily, he had only triggered it and his foot had not been trapped, only a piece of cloth.

Bjorn looked up, when he heard loud laughter in the distance. He must be watching me, Bjorn thought. Carefully, he stepped around and ducked behind a large stone.

He hadn't waited long, when he saw a man run past, a sword in his hands and looking to all sides. The attacker smiled when he realized where Bjorn was hiding. He charged at Bjorn and Bjorn charged at him. Bjorn threw a rock, hitting his attacker on his head, before drawing his dagger. In full speed, Bjorn ran at him and buried the dagger in the attacker's shoulder.

When the attacker merely laughed at the wound, Bjorn pulled out his fishing lines. The attacker's face showed fear for the first time when he saw the sharp hooks. Bjorn threw it at his face, the hooks tearing into the flesh. Bjorn pulled and walked around the tree behind the attacker, tying him to the tree.

Bjorn took the dagger from the attacker's hand and saw a rather valuable ring on his finger. Likely payment for my death, Bjorn realized. He pulled the ring of the finger and stepped in front of the man.

"Who sends you?" he asked. He repeated the question several times, the attacker refusing to answer. Bjorn pulled a little on the hooks, causing the attacker to moan in pain.

"Who sends you?" he asked again. To Bjorn it became obvious that the man was not going to answer his question. Without hesitation he stepped forward and ran the knife into his belly, opening the bowl from the hip up to the ribcage. The attacker's guts spilled out while he cried in pain, while Bjorn merely shrugged and walked away.

* * *

Sansa was sitting in the great hall. Ragnar had gone somewhere she didn't know and Aslaug had taken Ivar to Floki's, where they had made an agreement that Floki was to teach Ivar about the ways of the gods. According to Aslaug, it was impossible for Ragnar to teach him, because he was too open to the Christian gods.

Arya and Gyda were chasing each other around in the great hall, causing their mother to smile encouragingly at them. Their skirts were flying around their ankles and Sansa was happy.

* * *

Ragnar was holding a rat in his hand and eyed it carefully. He was in his hideout house, Yidu standing next to him.

"I have something for you", she said, "It's an ancient Chinese medicine."

"I'm not ill", Ragnar refused.

"But you are still in pain", Yidu objected, "In here."

She placed her hand gently on Ragnar's head, offering some leaves with her other hand.

"You think I want to poison you?" Yidu asked. Without hesitation, she bit off a bit of the leaves. Ragnar swallowed the rest. After a short while, they fell both back on the bed, giggling wildly.

Ragnar and Yidu kept dancing around in the house, Ragnar wielding torches, while Yidu snuggled close to him or alternatively, jumped in wide arcs around the room.

* * *

Hedeby had grown in the past years, just as Kattegat had become an important trading station. Although Kattegat was bigger, Hedeby had become a great town of its own, a wooden wall spanning all around.

The door of the great hall opened and a man, clad in a fur jacket entered, his hood over his head. Lagertha, Kalf and Erlendur looked curiously at him, until Bjorn pulled back his hood and revealed himself. While Lagertha embraced him tightly, Kalf shot Erlendur an anxious glance, unseen by both Lagertha and Bjorn.

"Why haven't we offered the son of Ragnar Lothbrok a drink yet?" Kalf urged the servants. He handed Bjorn a big horn of Ale, which the young man hungrily drank.

"I'm not sure, my visit is so much reason to celebrate", Bjorn told him, "I came for two reasons. Firstly, to visit my mother. Second, I want to take Torvi back with me to Kattegat."

"You are talking about my wife", Erlendur reminded him angrily.

"She is your wife", Bjorn agreed, "Yet you treat her like a slave."

"Torvi is free to make up her own mind", Kalf intervened, "Where do you want to go, Torvi?"

"I want to go with Bjorn", Torvi said.

"Very well", Elendur smiled, "But you must leave the child. Guthrum stays with me. Otherwise I will not release you from your vows."

Torvi began to cry as Bjorn waited for a decision, carefully stepping towards the door. Lagertha embraced her.

"If you want to go with my son, then go", she told Torvi, "We have only one life. I will look after your child here."

* * *

Emperor Charles looked over his glass at Rollo.

"Where is my daughter?" he asked, "No one should be late."

Before Rollo could answer, Gisela walked into the room and looked down the table towards Rollo.

"Gisela, will you not join us?" Charles asked.

"I am not hungry", Gisela smiled, "Can I speak to you alone for a moment, husband?"

Rollo stood up and bowed before the emperor, then followed Gisela out of the room. They both snuck into a small storage closet. Closing the doors behind her, Gisela kissed Rollo hungrily.

Back in the main room, the looks on the nobles ranged from confused to amused, to blushing, as the sound of moaning was heard from outside the room. Finally, Count Odo's lover, Therese raised her glass and with slight amusement in her voice wished all, "Happy Christmas!"

* * *

The night over Kattegat was enlightened by the torches carried by everyone. The procession moved through the whole town, ending on the main square. The blood of the sacrificed animals colored their faces and clothes, when Ragnar stepped forward and finally lit the fire. Everyone cheered as the sparks flew high in the air.

Sansa watched as all the others, cheered as all the others. Arya and Gyda were standing next to her and she was holding her young niece Siggy in her arms.

* * *

A strange ship approached Kattegat. On the first look, it could have been any regular long ship, but no one in Kattegat had ever seen this one before. Most of the ships of the allies of King Ragnar were well known, but this one was _different._ Instead of the carved dragonhead on the prow, there was a skull of a deer fastened. The shields on the sides were painted yellow and were decorated with a symbol, to protect the wearer and install power within him. The man standing high on the prow was wearing a bright red tunic and a cloak of wool, draping wide behind his shoulders.

"Mother! A stranger has come!" Hvitserk cried when he entered the great hall. Aslaug looked up.

"A stranger?" she asked, "Where is he?"

"He's here", the man in the red tunic answered from the door of the great hall. His face was entirely covered in tattoos, his hand was resting easily on the hilt of his sword.

"Queen Aslaug", the man bowed slightly, "Allow me to introduce myself: My name is Harald, but my people call me King Finehair."

"A King?" Aslaug looked at him in surprise, "Then you are most welcome to our hearth and home. Come warm yourself by the fire."

"My men?" Harald inquired.

"They will be taken care of", Sansa told him, stepping beside Aslaug, "Are you hungry?"

"Tell me, King Harald", Aslaug began as a servant handed Harald a cup of ale, "Why have you come here?"

"The poets sing praises on your husband", Harald explained, "His raids upon England and now Paris – he's a famous man! Why would I not want to meet such a man, talk to him? But where is he?"

"You will meet him soon enough", Sansa told him, "My father will likely be back this evening."

"Then you must be the famous Sansa bloody-hair", Harald smiled, "Your part in the raid on Paris is almost as far told as your father's fame. Forgive me, but I have to ask, was it intentional that you were wounded and captured?"

* * *

In the evening, Sansa and Harald were playing a game of Hnefatafl, watched by everyone in the hall.

"Why have you really come here?" Sansa wanted to know.

"I made someone a promise", Harald replied.

"Who?" Sansa queried.

"A girl", Harald smiled, "A princess. I wanted to marry her, but she turned me down."

"You didn't just take her?" Sansa asked.

"I decided I needed to be worthy of her", Harald said as he made his move, "Be smart."

Sansa thought for a moment, then made her move.

"How would you do that?" she inquired.

"By making myself King of all Norway", Harald explained, "Then she would marry me for certain."

"But to become King of all Norway, you would need to overthrow my father", Sansa smiled, before taking Harald's king from the board, "You lost."

Ragnar entered the great hall through the side door. He stepped next to Bjorn who had only arrived shortly before him. Bjorn was still clad in his fur jacket, Torvi standing next to him.

"Look who's back", Ragnar greeted him. He shot a sideways glance at Torvi.

"You're well looked after, I suppose", he said.

Stepping towards his high chair, Ragnar looked around. Finally his eyes settled on Harald.

"And who are you?" he asked.

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 _A/N: I hope you liked it, even though this one is close to the Vikings episode._

 _Next chapter will focus entirely on Westeros..._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	39. The Queens of Westeros

_A/N: Back to Westeros for th entire chapter - I hope it fulfills your hopes...  
_

 ** _Thank you for your reviews! As well as all those who follow or favorited this story!  
_**

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of Thrones. They belong to their rightful owners._

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 **Chapter 39 The Queens of Westeros**

Daenerys Targaryen felt like a conqueror. Standing high on the prow of her ship, she watched as the fortress Dragonstone came in sight. It was only a few more days until they would reach King's Landing. Easy, she thought, first you have to take the city. She remembered her last attempt. It had not been a great idea, back then.

That whore of Lannister, as she called her, had taken the crown for herself after her husband, the usurper, and both of his sons had died within a few years. Just after the death of the younger son, Dany had been strong enough to attack and claim her kingdom. So they had set out from dragon's bay, embarked on the remnants of the iron fleet, to overthrow the usurper and place the rightful Queen on the throne.

As it had turned out, this endeavor was doomed from the start. A storm had wrecked most of the fleet halfway across the narrow sea and by the time they reached the Westerosi shores, most of the strength of Dany's army had been taken away. After landing in the feared shipbreaker bay, Dany remembered Tyrion's tales of how he had defended the blackwater with wildfire. Against the advice of her generals, Dany had decided to make landfall near Storm's end and cross the Kingswood to approach King's Landing by land.

At first it had seemed as if it had been a marvelous strategic idea, like she had done so often before. But within days, the roads turned to mud and their swift march ground to a halt. By the time they had made it to the Roseroad, the Lannister scouts had long since found them, and Cersei had already prepared an ambush for them.

They had been expecting the Lannister armies ahead of them, some of the Dothraki had been sent to scout. But no one expected it to be wildfire. Without warning, the forest around them had erupted in the green flames. Horses and men were burned alike, screaming in agony as they feverishly tried to extinguish their burning clothes, skin or hair. The horses shied and ran off in all directions, many throwing the riders from their backs or trampling down the soldiers. Soon the entire army was scattered. Lannister men mixed in between and slaughtered many of the survivors.

Dany and most of the others had made it away from the battlefield, trying to gather as much of the forces as possible, only to find that almost futile. The invasion of Westeros had failed. The dragon banner of the Targaryen family was still hanging from its pole, still standing on the battlefield, a thin plume of smoke rising up from the seam, almost mocking.

Somehow, they had managed to turn around, and while still hunted by Lannister forces had returned to their ships and sailed away. Daario Naharis had made wide eyes as his Queen had returned to dragon's bay so soon, and so soundly defeated. Soon they had been making plans for a renewed attack on the seven Kingdoms, but years had gone by until the necessary strength had been built up.

This time, Dany promised herself, she would listen to her advisors. Especially Tyrion Lannister, her Hand of the Queen, would hopefully be able to bring a different outcome, after all he had led the defense of the city when he acted as Hand of his nephew Joffrey, the usurper's oldest son.

* * *

Cersei Lannister cursed as she received the report. Sitting on the Iron Throne in the great throne room, she looked at the messenger.

"Where exactly have you seen them?" she wanted to know. The fisherman bowed down before her.

"Your Grace", he began retelling his story, "My son and I are fishermen. Good boy. Strong, my boat will be in good hands when I get too old…"

"Never mind that", Cersei interrupted him, "What have you seen? And where?"

"Two days ago, we were out near Dragonstone, Your Grace", the fisherman told her, "And there was a large fleet approaching, must have been a thousand ships… they came and we turned around and sailed back towards King's Landing."

"A thousand ships?" Jamie Lannister asked in doubt, "No one has a thousand ships."

Murmuring, the court agreed.

"I don't know, milord", the fisherman sad, "It was way more than I could count, that's all I know, I swear in the light of the seven."

"It is alright", Cersei told him, "I am sure you did what you could. I am grateful for your report."

"Yes, Your Grace" the fisherman stammered, "Thank you, Your Grace."

* * *

Cersei had bidden her brother Jamie into her rooms. For a change, the twins were not engaging in their affair, but talking about possible ways to deal with the invaders.

"We can't use wildfire again", Jamie warned, "You should remember that Tyrion is with her – he will be expecting this."

"I don't care if he's expecting it or not", Cersei argued, "I will not be defeated. I _am_ the Queen."

"But setting the blackwater afire would be too obvious", Jamie reminded his sister, "He will be prepared for that. We will not defeat them this way."

* * *

Missandei, the translator was standing next to Tyrion on the bow of the ship on which their Queen was travelling towards Westeros.

"When will we reach King's Landing?" the translator wanted to know.

"Last night, we passed the fortress of Dragonstone", Tyrion told her, "Interestingly, that is where our Queen was born. It will be two, maybe three days. As long as the wind holds."

"Then we will attack?" Missandei wanted to know.

"Of course we will attack", Tyrion replied, "We will either succeed at once or else try to lay siege to them. But that is much more complicated."

In this moment, Dany stepped towards her close friends on the deck.

"What will your sister do to stop us?" she asked. Tyrion thought about it for a while.

"We all remember too well that she has wildfire", he mused, "Back when Stannis Baratheon tried to storm the city, I set the river afire. My best guess is that she will use somehow similar plans. For one, she has no battlefield experience and secondly, it's probably the most effective use I can think of."

"Then how do we prepare for this?" Missandei wanted to know.

"We will keep a good lookout", Tyrion smiled, "The use of wildfire requires an archer to shoot a flaming arrow at it. This man would need to be somewhere on the riverbank. And furthermore, wildfire needs to be delivered. If we see a single ship in the bay, we make for the shore and attack by land."

* * *

Jamie Lannister was sitting with his sister in her solar, taking a sip from his goblet filled with the finest dornish wine.

"We cannot lose the city", Cersei reminded him, "It would mean our heads."

"You don't need to remind me", Jamie sighed.

"And I want this murderous, vile bastard dead", Cersei raged, "I need him dead."

"He is our brother", Jamie tried to calm her.

"He murdered our son!" Cersei yelled.

Jamie shrugged and placed his empty glass on the table, before he stood up and walked to the door.

"Where are you going?" Cersei demanded to know, "I haven't given you leave yet."

"Cersei, I know that it is no joy in your company, when you are in this mood", Jamie sighed, "So, _Your Grace_ , may I please be excused so I can take care of the preparations for the attack?"

"Very well", Cersei snorted, before she took another sip from her wine.

Jamie left the room and walked through one of the deserted corridors in the royal castle of King's Landing, the Red Keep. He walked around a corner and found his old companion Bronn.

"So, what are we going to do?" Bronn wanted to know.

"We're going to defend the city", Jamie answered with the hint of a smile on his lips.

"I know that. But how?" the former sellsword wanted to know.

* * *

Tyrion was sitting in his cabin on the ship, still trying to figure out a plan, on how to attack the city. He looked up when someone knocked on his door.

"Enter!" he called.

"Mylord Hand", Varys greeted him.

"Varys! Come in", Tyrion smiled.

"Thank you", Varys replied, "How can I be of help?"

"Do you remember the last time, we were concerned with the defenses of King's Landing?" Tyrion grinned.

"Of course I do", the eunuch smiled, "After all, I never forget anything."

"Do you remember that map, that you showed me?" Tyrion wondered, "You don't have a copy of it, by coincidence?"

"No, my friend, I'm afraid this map lies in the city", Varys sighed, "Are you planning what I believe you are planning?"

"I don't know if I'm planning what you believe I am planning", Tyrion smiled, "That would depend on what you believe I am planning as well on what I am planning."

Varys gave his old friend a small smile.

"Very well", he said, "I believe you are planning to send a group of Unsullied through the tunnels inside the city, so they can take the gates from inside."

"I might have thought on that", Tyrion grinned.

* * *

At the same time, Daario Naharis was sitting with the Queen in her cabin. The captain of the sellswords was taking a sip of wine, before he looked at the Queen.

"Have you already decided on how to attack the city?" Daario asked.

"I have sworn to keep myself out of the battle this time", Dany told him once more, "I will leave the plan to Tyrion. After all, he probably knows the city's defenses better that any of us."

"But he is no warrior", Daario argued, "It would be better if you let your commanders make the battle plans."

"He is my Hand", Dany told him firmly, "He may not have your battlefield experience, but he has fought in battles before. He defended the city against the usurper's brother, so if you have any superior qualification, tell me now!"

"Will you ride your dragon?" the former sellsword wanted to know after an awkward pause.

"No, I mean to take the city and not destroy it", Dany told him, "Unless I really need to, I will not employ them. Too many innocent lives would be lost."

"You are a conqueror", Daario disagreed, "You may need to take many innocent lives, even if you do not mean to. That is what makes you a conqueror."

* * *

Ser Bronn of the Blackwater, the former sellsword, knighted for his service during the attack of Stannis Baratheon on King's Landing was standing on the battlements, overlooking blackwater bay. In the far distance, the fog was still over the water. But he knew that they were here. Soon enough, the army of the Targaryen girl would land on the muddy beaches outside the city walls, near the mud gate and the King's gate. Without doubt, these would be the points where they would attack first.

He did not look up, when the newly appointed commander of the gold cloaks stepped next to him.

"Mylord", the commander greeted him.

"I'm no lord", Bronn shrugged, "Are your men ready?"

"The city watch is ready for the siege", the gold-cloak replied, "We have rounded up all the thieves and thrown them in the prisons under the Red Keep. The swords are sharp and the men are prepared."

"Very well", Bronn smiled, "That means we only have to worry about their fighting skills now."

* * *

Dany was standing on the bow of the lead ship, when they approached King's Landing. She wanted to be the first one to see the city. Or, more exactly, she _needed_ to be the first one.

Finally, the morning mist lifted and King's Landing came into sight. The high walls of the Red Keep, towering above the city. The sunlight glistened from the waves in Blackwater bay and the city awoke. It was a beautiful morning. If there would not have been a war.

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 _A/N: So, what do you think, how will the attack go?_

 _Don't forget to review!_


	40. Promised

_A/N: Thinking it over, I found that two chapters was too much of a break from Sansa's main storyline. So we are back to Vikings right now. But don't worry, the next one will tell of the fighting for King's Landing...  
_

 _Thank you to all reviewers, as well as everyone who has favorited or is following this story!_

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 **Chapter 38 Promised**

Erlendur's eyes followed Kalf as the Earl walked along a path outside of Hedeby. Smiling to himself, Erlendur cocked his crossbow and aimed carefully. Holding his breath for a moment, Erlendur loosened the bolt and hit the target. Kalf ducked as the bolt made the clay pot shatter, only a little beside him.

"That was impressive", he complimented Erlendur.

"I modified the Frankish weapon", Erlendur explained, "It has a much greater range now. And a better accuracy."

"The Franks will not expect us to be attacking them with their own weapons", Kalf agreed. They both looked over to the other side of the field, where Lagertha and her shieldmaidens were sparring.

"Bjorn must have murdered our berserker", Erlendur said, "But now we have eyes in Ragnar Lothbrok's household."

"Lagertha must never know", Kalf reminded him.

Just then Lagertha walked over to them.

"What were you two talking about?" she asked.

"Erlendur has just told me how he has forgiven Torvi for leaving", Kalf smiled.

"Really?" Lagertha asked in surprise.

"I am trying, at least", Erlendur smiled and walked away.

Lagertha smiled at Kalf.

"I too have a surprise for you", she said, "I am with child."

A broad grin covered Kalf's face.

"That makes me so very happy", he smiled, "Marry me, Lagertha."

* * *

In the meantime, Ragnar and Bjorn were working on the ships, preparing for the summer. They had paint and stones, and grinded the handles of the oars, smoothing the wood. Bjorn nodded at Harald, standing at the pier.

"So, who is he?" Bjorn asked.

"You heard. He's a king", Ragnar told him, "From Trondheim, wherever that is."

"Do you trust him?" Bjorn inquired.

"No", Ragnar waved him off, "Of course not. Something else, why don't you care for your daughter Siggy?"

"I care for her", Bjorn mused, "It just reminds me of things I'd rather forget."

"And what kind of man takes a mother away from her child?" Ragnar wanted to know.

"You tell me", Bjorn said, looking straight into Ragnar's eyes, "You tried to take me away from my mother."

"That is not how it went", Ragnar disagreed, "Your mother left _me. You_ left me. It is not easy being a father. Or a husband. Maybe I have failed at both."

Ragnar bowed towards Bjorn, grinning mischievously.

"No", he whispered, "I definitely failed at being a husband."

Bjorn grinned and threw his rag aside. Stepping onto the pier he called out to Harald.

"How many boats and men do you have?" Bjorn inquired.

"Twenty ships", Harald replied, "About 600 men. I told Ragnar mine is a rather small Kingdom – for now."

"When will they arrive?" Bjorn asked.

"They must already underway", Harald told him, "My brother Halfdan is bringing them."

"Is your brother like you?" Bjorn wanted to know.

"No", Harald laughed, "He's far worse."

"You have some high ambitions", Bjorn stated.

"Haven't you, _Bjorn Ironside_?" Harald wanted to know, "Isn't that what we are all here for, to achieve fame – like your father."

"Fame won't make your small kingdom any bigger", Bjorn pointed out.

* * *

"I wish you a safe journey home", the Emperor said as Petyr Baelish mounted his horse. Littlefinger had finally achieved what he came for, gathering knowledge about the northmen, their intentions and capabilities.

* * *

In the royal Villa in Wessex, Athelwulf was lying in his bed, looking at Judith standing in front of him.

"Come to bed", he said.

"I don't want to", Judith refused.

"Why?" he asked. He thought for a moment.

"Why don't you go and sleep with my father then?" he yelled, "You whore!"

He punched her in the face.

"Very well, husband", Judith said, "Beat me if you will. But why don't you go and sleep with your mistress, the Queen of Mercia? The fact is that I am wife to you as you are husband to me, formally but not in reality!"

* * *

Count Odo was walking through the streets of Paris side by side.

"The forts have been built to your instructions, Your Grace", Count Odo informed him, "Eventually, there will be an iron chain to be raised over the river."

"We should still place some boats behind it, in case they break through", Rollo told him, "My people don't recognize obstacles."

* * *

In the Emperor's palace, Roland bowed before Charles.

"You asked for a private audience", the Emperor began, "Why?"

"Forgive me, Your Highness", Roland said, "But I am reluctant to discuss matters which divulge to my direct superior."

"You mean Count Odo?" Charles asked, "Just speak!"

"I find myself troubled that Your Highness always believes his words", Roland told him, "I believe he is not always worth the trust. His ambitions are great. Not even an Emperor's crown would sit untidy on his head."

"An Emperor's crown?!" Charles called, "Have you any proof?"

"I have the word of his mistress", Roland smiled, "As Your Highness knows, any man always tells the truth to his mistress and only afterwards, if at all, to his wife."

"I want to speak with her!" Charles told him. The doors of the throne room entered and Therese walked in.

"This woman is my sister", Roland explained, "As well as Count Odo's mistress."

"And does he talk freely of his ambitions?" Charles wanted to know, "Of his ambitions to replace me?"

"He does", Therese told him.

"Then I beg you, stay close to him", Charles ordered, "Report to me any further signals of his treachery."

* * *

Ragnar was lying in the bed of the secluded house he and Yidu had been sharing.

"What is the name of your country?" he asked.

"China", Yidu replied.

"And who rules it?" Ragnar wanted to know.

"The Emperor Dezong of the Tang-dynasty", Yidu explained.

"What about your father?" Ragnar inquired, "Who was he?"

"My father was a merchant", Yidu told him, "Well respected. Rich enough to own a boat."

"Tell me more about the Emperor", Ragnar urged.

"The Emperor had many daughters with his wives and concubines", Yidu recalled, "The concubines were cared for by the eunuchs."

"Eunuchs?" Ragnar asked.

"Men who are not men", Yidu explained, "Their manhood was cut off."

"Are you one of the Emperor's daughters?" Ragnar inquired, "I don't know you, yet I want to tell you my most terrible secrets. Do you want to know it?"

"Yes, I can share your burden", Yidu said enthusiastically, as Ragnar pushed her towards the bed, "I am small, but I have broad shoulders."

"I will tell you and then you will tell me the truth about your father", Ragnar said. Yidu shot him an angry glare.

"Give me more of that medicine", Ragnar demanded.

* * *

Bjorn and Sansa were sitting in the great hall, watching the three girls chase each other around the table.

"What do you think of this King Finehair?" Bjorn asked, "Do you trust him?"

"No, I don't", Sansa admitted as she watched how Siggy was caught by Arya.

"But on the other hand, no one can blame him if he wants to be famous", Sansa reflected, "And it never hurts to have allies."

* * *

A week later, a fleet of ships approached Kattegat, the shields displaying the colors of King Harald Finehair. The docked and beached and a tall and broad man jumped onto the pier, where he embraced Harald.

"So this is Kattegat", he said.

Sansa watched as Ragnar angrily threw knifes into an old shield. Harald walked up to them, the tall man from the ships by his side. The left side of his head was shaven while the hair grew long all over his head. His face was tattooed in a fine pattern, just as Harald's.

"King Ragnar, this is my brother Halfdan", Harald introduced him, "The notorious King Ragnar and his lovely daughter."

"It is an honor to meet you, King Ragnar", Halfdan said, "When do we sail for Paris?"

"You seem awful eager to fight", Ragnar stated.

"I am eager to fight, yes", Halfdan agreed, "Not only for the sake of fighting but for the beauty of it",

Ragnar smiled curtly at him.

"And for Odin", Halfdan told him, "I hate the Christians. I want to kill them all."

"Well, you will have the opportunity to kill a great number of them", Ragnar grinned, while he eyed one of his knives curiously, "Once we reach Paris."

Sansa stood up from her seat. With a few quick paces, she stepped next to Halfdan.

"Please forgive my father", she said politely, "He is not exactly famous for his manners or his hospitality. But we will treat you well."

* * *

Ragnar and Yidu had so far been missing the feast. They lay both hidden on a roof, overlooking the great hall.

"They will wonder where you are", Yidu told Ragnar.

"I doubt that", Ragnar replied, "When I was young, I had the passion to win renown. But with age, things change. I no longer have the desire – or the strength."

He turned to Yidu.

"A few years ago, I established a settlement in a foreign country", he told her, "I took many of my people and friends there to make a new life for themselves. But shortly after my departure, they were all slaughtered, their homes destroyed. I live with such guilt because of them – and nobody knows."

"My father is the Emperor", Yidu admitted.

* * *

In the great hall, Halfdan and Harald were sitting together, watching Bjorn go by.

"They say he left Kattegat a boy and came back a man", Harald stated, "Killed a bear with his bare hands."

"A bear?" Halfdan asked, impressed. Harald nodded while he took a sip form his cup.

The whole room went silent, as Floki and Helga entered.

"That is Floki, the boatbuilder", Harald explained, "People told me he's falling out with Ragnar."

They waved for Floki to sit down with them. Gratefully, he took the seat next to Harald.

"You built the boat that changed our entire world", Halfdan said, "Why would Ragnar fall out with someone like you?"

"Because I killed his pet Christian", Floki explained.

* * *

A few days later, Ivar was sitting in his cart, playing with other children. They were throwing a ball in the air and trying to catch it. Ivar, severely hindered by his short height finally received the ball only to have it torn from his fingers by another boy.

Floki stepped into the group and retrieved the ball, handing it back to Ivar. As soon as he stepped back, another boy tried to rip the ball from Ivar's fingers. The handicapped boy reached behind his back and swung an axe at the other boy. Blood spurted high as the axe buried itself in his skull and the frightened shrieks of the children filled the square.

* * *

Hedeby was swarming with activity, everyone was excited for their two Earls to marry. It was no secret that they had hated each other after Kalf had usurped Lagertha, so now the wedding was a most welcome surprise.

Servants and handmaids were surrounding Lagertha as she tried her dress on. Outside, everyone was decorating the town. Flowers could be seen everywhere, Musicians and artists were entertaining the crowds.

* * *

"What is that?" Torvi asked Bjorn as she sat down next to him in their bedroom. Bjorn handed her the ring he had taken from the berserker.

"Where did you find it?" she asked.

"I took it from someone", Bjorn said, avoiding the truth.

"That was Erlendur's ring", Torvi told him, "He got it from his father, King Horik."

* * *

Sansa was watching Arya and Gyda play, as Halfdan walked up to her.

"Good morning", he greeted her, "I just wanted to express my gratitude that you and your father have agreed to let us join the raid on Paris."

"You're welcome", Sansa replied politely.

"Yours?" Halfdan asked as they both watched the two girls. Sansa nodded.

"They are as beautiful as their mother", Halfdan complimented her.

* * *

Kalf entered the tent, and Lagertha turned around to face him. She wore a white dress and her hair was finely braided with flowers in between.

"You look beautiful", Kalf told her, "You make me so happy. Wherever I am, I will never forget how you looked on our wedding day."

He stepped towards Lagertha and placed a soft kiss on her lips. Looking down on her face, Kalf missed the dagger that Lagertha pulled from her sleeve. His body jerked as the sharp blade dug between his ribs.

Kalf smiled bravely as he fell to his knees, bleeding badly. Lagertha kissed him gently, before he whispered, "After all, you promised…"

The audience was getting nervous as Lagertha walked out of the tent, her dress bloody, and her shieldmaidens at her side.

"Earl Kalf is dead", Lagertha announced loudly.

"Long live Earl Ingstad!" the shieldmaidens called, soon joined by the others.

"LONG LIVE EARL INGSTAD!"

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 _A/N: Preparations for the second raid on Paris are well underway, and Littlefinger might return to Westeros only to find a city under attack?_

 _I promise, the next one will describe the attack on King's Landing._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	41. Dracaris

_A/N: As promised, I bring you the attack on King's Landing...  
_

 _I thank everyone who bothered to tell me how they think it will play out - I hope you like it!_

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 **Chapter 41 Dracaris**

Tyrion was standing in front of his tent in the army's main camp. To his left was the large tent where the rightful Queen of Westeros resided, and behind that the tents of the other leaders of the army. Daario Naharis, Commander of the Second Sons, a company of sellswords, walked up to him.

"Mylord Tyrion", he greeted him, "Have you already made up your mind about when we're attacking?"

"Patience my friend", Tyrion smiled, "I trust that the city is fully surrounded?"

"No one is going in or out", Daario told him, "The Greyjoys have taken their ships and sealed off the Blackwater. My men have made contact with the Unsullied that surrounded the city from the other side, and we're building our barricades. Soon they will starve."

"That is good to hear", Varys the eunuch agreed as he stepped to the two men, "My birds tell me, your sister is about as popular as your nephew was. But still we cannot hope that the population will just go over to our side, as you well remember."

"I know", Tyrion sighed, "To them, we are foreign invaders."

* * *

Cersei was standing on the battlements of the city wall, wearing a finely made dress, the golden threads embroidered to form lions. Ser Gregor Clegane of the Queen's Guard was with her, as well as the commander of the gold cloaks.

"They have managed to surround us", the commander of the city watch reported, afraid of the Queen's reaction to his words, "The men that were sent out to stop them are all dead."

"Can your men hold the city walls?" Cersei wanted to know. She looked out to the camp, where the Targaryen army was laying siege to the city.

"Yes, Your Grace", the commander hastily said, "I believe we can hold the walls, but the Imp and Lord Varys are with our enemies. I know of no weak point in the defenses, but maybe they will still find one."

"My brother is a traitor and a murderer", Cersei reminded him, "I want his head on a pike. Or better I want him alive so he can suffer."

"Yes, Your Grace", the commander agreed.

* * *

In the evening, the commanders of the Targaryen army had been invited to Dany's tent. Daario Naharis was sitting next to Varys, while Missandei and Grey Worm occupied the other side of the table. Yara Greyjoy still held her watch out in the bay, but her brother had come to receive new orders, if necessary.

All started to rise when Tyrion and Daenerys entered the tent, but she quickly waved them off. Both took their seats, then Tyrion spoke up.

"As you probably all guessed, we are not going to starve the city to surrender", he began, "Honestly, I did not quite expect the first attack to be fully successful, so we're making another attempt, tomorrow morning."

"What are your plans?" Theon Greyjoy asked.

"Stop interrupting and I will tell you", Tyrion smiled, "Actually, for you and your sister, your task remains unchanged. You will keep anyone from the city from leaving by sea and any reinforcements or supply ships out."

"What about the rest of us?" Daario wanted to know.

"The Dothraki are not made for siege warfare, so they will patrol our surroundings, making sure no one attacks us in the rear. Both the Second Sons and the Unsullied will launch assaults against the gates. The Second Sons will attack Mud Gate – that's the one right down by the water. A section of Unsullied will attack the King's Gate. This way, we keep them from concentrating their men around one gate, and wherever we get through, we will exploit this breech."

"That's a good plan", Daario complimented him, "Tomorrow morning?"

"Yes" Dany said, "Tomorrow morning. Any objections?"

* * *

Ser Bronn was standing on the battlements, overlooking the opposing army. His old friend Tyrion was surely down there, amidst all the flying banners, tents, horses and men that readied themselves. The sellsword smiled to himself as he remembered their first morning before a battle together. With luck, they would both survive this time as well.

The Targaryen army set out in two parts. The sellswords of the Second Sons, under the lead of Daario Naharis, were marching up to the Mud Gate. They were equipped with a ram and a strong cage, which they would use to break through the gate.

The Unsullied marched north until they reached the strong King's Gate. They were equipped with a ram as well. To a neutral observer, there was not much difference between these two parties, except that the Second Sons wore whatever they liked and the Unsullied looked more uniform, their armor, weapons and clothes standardized.

Both forces approached the gates, while the defenders let rocks, arrows and spears rain down on them. Neither of them turned around, their shields were strong enough to hold off all the threats. Their rams crashed against the gates and ladders were put up against the wall. Soon the bravest soldiers of the Targaryen army were crawling up the ladders towards the top of the walls. They were met by equally brave defenders and soon a series of small battles erupted all over the battlements of the walls.

While some had scaled the walls, others were still working their rams, trying hard to break the gates down and open the city. The strong gates were still holding, but nevertheless, their wooden planks could not hold for all eternity.

"Now is the time", Bronn thought. He signaled to a group of Lannister soldiers, who were manning the catapults. The catapults had been set up in a way, that they could hit any attacker in front of the gates in the flanks. Now the soldiers loaded big clay jars into the catapults and loosened their deadly load onto the attacking troops. Wildfire spread all over the soldiers and soon men were burning alive and screaming in agony.

* * *

Tyrion had stayed a little behind the front, observing the attack from a safe distance. He gasped as he saw the men burning, remembering vividly how he had felt during this night, when he had defended the city.

"Tell Daario Naharis to break off the attack", Tyrion told a little boy who served as messenger between the different parts of the army.

"Yes, milord", the boy answered and ran off.

Daario Naharis was cursing loudly as he looked up from underneath the cage which they had placed over the ram. Underneath the cage, his men were working hard on the ram, but still the gates were too strong. Outside in the open, warriors, both of the Second Sons as well as the Dothraki were hiding behind their shields or in shallow ditches.

A jar of wildfire flew at them, missing the ram and the cage by a few yards and erupting into greenish flames as the clay pot burst on a rock. Daario instinctively raised his arm to protect himself from the fire. Fortunately it was too far away to reach him, but the heat made him stagger back even from the distance.

Just as he put his arm down again, he saw a small boy running up to him. The boy dodged arrows and had almost reached the cage, when he was hit by a rock, thrown by one of the defenders. The boy stumbled and went down, and without hesitation, Daario ran outside his cover and dragged the boy to the relative safety of the wooden cage.

"Lord Tyrion say to stop the attack", the boy mumbled, still shaking from his run over the battlefield.

"What did he say?" Daario asked.

"He wants you to stop the attack", the boy repeated.

Daario looked around. His men had already paid a heavy prize, and it would not get any easier to storm the gates the next time. He could just disregard this order, then hopefully they could push through and would not have to try again. The imp had no experience in military matters. Why should he be in command of this campaign?

He had already decided to disregard the order, when another jar of wildfire struck right on top of the wooden cage. They could all feel the heat above them and the men looked at him for guidance.

"Seven hells!" he cursed, "Fall back!"

Almost relieved to be getting away from this deathtrap that was once the Mud Gate, the men gathered around him and made for their camp and the outposts. Many were still killed by arrows and wildfire, raining down on them from atop the wall.

* * *

The commanders met back at the camp, while some of the men remained in their outposts, keeping a watchful eye on the surrounded city.

Missandei was sitting next to Daenerys in the Queen's tent. Tyrion was standing in the corner, next to Varys. Grey Worm was sitting on the table, unharmed except for a cut on his shoulder. Daario was drinking thirstily from the glass of water, his armor covered in his men's blood and part of his hair singed.

"So, what exactly happened today?" Dany wanted to know.

"They were simply too strong", Tyrion explained, looking at Daario and Grey Worm.

"We were not making progress at all", Daario sighed, "The Mud Gate is as firm as it was before."

"But is it not supposed to be the weak point in the defense?" Missandei inquired.

"Indeed it is, my dear", Varys agreed, "But its weakness comes from the fact that it is easiest to attack and relatively hard to mount a defense down there. And because this is well known, surely they have stationed every spare man near it."

"I see", Daenerys said, "Any ideas on what to do now?"

"I have an idea, but I would rather not try it as long as we have other ideas", Tyrion told them. He looked expectantly around. The others all shook their heads.

"Tell us", Daenerys finally commanded.

"I remember when I defended the city against Stannis", Tyrion began, "He was standing at the gates and the only thing we could do was a sortie. But we could not go out through the gates, so we needed another way. Fortunately, your ancestors built the city so it could withstand a siege, so there are many tunnels going underneath the walls."

"Are you planning to send us into the city using these tunnels?" Daario wanted to know.

"That is my idea, yes", Tyrion smiled, "That is, if we can find the outside entrance."

"That is suicide", Missandei interrupted them.

"I know", Tyrion smiled weakly, "Unfortunately, we have no better plan."

* * *

A few days later, a group of Unsullied assembled at sunset. Tyrion and Varys were with them, the Hand of Queen Daenerys wearing his armor and a battleaxe. The Unsullied wore their usual attire, consisting of armor, helmet, sword and shield. The long spear had been ordered to be left behind, this was not a weapon to be taken through a narrow tunnel.

Varys led the group over the plains outside the city. Tyrion followed him and the Unsullied made up the bulk of the force. They were all moving silently and not carrying any light with them, avoiding to be seen by the guards on the walls.

At the same time, Daario Naharis and the Second Sons marched north. They were all carrying torches and did everything to look like the main attacking force. They were trying to make another assault at the King's Gate, mainly to distract the defenders from the real threat.

Varys looked at the small door, where an iron gate had been installed.

"This is the entrance", the Eunuch whispered, "Good luck, my friends."

Tyrion broke the gate open with his axe and took a deep breath, before he stepped into the even bleaker darkness.

The stench grew closer with every step, as Tyrion led the Unsullied through the tunnel. All the waste and shit of the city flowed through this tunnel, emptying itself into the sea. He held his nose closed with his hand and tried to breathe through the mouth, most of the Unsullied following his example.

His feet splashed through the shallow water, at the moment about as high as his knees, which meant that it was as deep that a normal man would stand in it to his calves.

"Take a break!" he ordered. Immediately, the column behind him stopped. Not that they had much choice, the tunnel being so narrow that two men could hardly get through next to each other. Soon the men in the back handed canteens of water to the others. Tyrion was glad that he had thought of bringing water with them. It weighed much and would not help them in conquering the city, but surely, it helped them on their way.

* * *

In the small room of Maegor's Holdfast, the core part of the Red Keep, Cersei Lannister was awoken from her sleep by knocking on the door. Shaking herself, she got up and hastily put a robe over her nightgown.

"What is it?" she called.

"Your Grace, the Grand Maester is here to see you", Ser Lothar Payne, the knight of the King's Guard on duty, replied.

"Send him in", Cersei sighed.

"Good evening, Your Grace", Grand Maester Qyburn said, "I am sorry to disturb you so late."

"Never mind", Cersei shrugged, "What is it?"

"There has been a raven from Winterfell", the Grand Maester explained, "Lord Bolton has called his banners and is marching south to come to our aide. He hopes to arrive within three weeks' time, bringing 4000 men on foot and 1500 on horse."

"That is good to hear", Cersei smiled, "So we have to hold King's Landing until he arrives. Any news of my brother yet?"

"No, Your Grace", Qyburn told her, "But he can have arrived in Casterly Rock the earliest the day before yesterday. When he calls his banners, it will be at least another ten days until we can expect him with the reinforcements."

* * *

Tyrion was breathing heavily, the weight of his armor was beginning to show its effect. Behind him, Grey Worm was moving forward stoically, although he and all the other Unsullied were marching through the water running out of the city.

It was dark, and for the sake of secrecy, they had not taken any torches with them. The thick, strong smelling mud encased their shoes, making squishy sounds with every step.

"One more break", Tyrion commanded, "We must be through soon. Then we need to be ready to fight."

"We are ready to fight", Grey Worm reminded him.

"I know", Tyrion sighed, before taking a sip from the bottle of clean water.

* * *

"Now", Daario Naharis whispered. Several of the Second Sons brought forward a ram and soon they were battering against the King's Gate.

Daario ducked and an arrow missed him only by a few inches. While the Second sons were assaulting the gate, the defenders on top of the wall had now awoken and were throwing down stones and jars of wildfire.

* * *

Tyrion was sure, Daario's attack had begun by now. He led the Unsullied forward, step by step to the exit of the tunnel. This would be their gateway to King's Landing, of that he was certain.

"What is that?" Grey Worm asked behind him.

"What is what?" Tyrion asked, confused. He turned around to face the commander of the Unsullied. Grey worm was with his hands down in the dirty water, as if he was feeling his way forward. The other Unsullied were doing exactly the same.

"There is something swimming on the water", Grey Worm finally answered.

"There's lot of things swimming in the water", Tyrion joked, "And I would much rather not touch any of it voluntarily."

"This is special", Grey Worm insisted, "Feel it."

Tyrion's hand moved down into the dirty water. Grey Worm was right, he thought, there was some oily substance drifting on the water. He held his hand in front of his face and smelled. His mind needed a moment, until he had recognized the smell, then he gasped in horror. The substance dripping from his fingers would burn hot enough to melt the flesh of bones. It bore the distinct scent of _Wildfire._

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 _A/N: That plan doesn't seen to work either... and Missandei was right about a suicide mission._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	42. A troubling Journey

**Chapter 42 A troubling Journey  
**

Lagertha and Erlendur were standing next to Kalf's grave. A small boy was standing next to Erlendur.

"Come here, Guthrum", Lagertha said to the boy, "I will be going away soon and so is Erlendur. I advise you to keep your friends very close, because some of them will die only too soon. And the others will betray you."

* * *

Everyone in the great hall went silent, as Ragnar stood up to commence the Thing. He took a sip of ale from his cup, then cleared his throat.

"Firstly, I want to announce that we leave for Paris in three weeks to the day!" he declared. Everyone cheered.

"But today is today", Ragnar continued, "And we are here to perform an important ceremony, in which my two boys, Ubba and Hvitserk, will receive their sacred armrings."

Sansa watched from her chair as her two adopted brothers proudly stepped in front of Ragnar.

"Kneel", he ordered, while Bjorn was holding the ceremonial royal sword ready. Ragnar placed little heaps on the blade.

"Take this offering of Earth and Salt, to remind you that you belong both to the Earth and to the Sea", he said. Carefully, the two boys licked it off.

"These armrings are symbols of your coming of age", Ragnar told them, "They also bind you in loyalty to me, your King and your father. Any oath sworn on these rings must be kept or else you sacrifice your honor and your place in Valhalla. Do you understand?"

"Yes, father", the boys chorused.

"Put on your rings, brothers!" Sansa urged them. Proudly, the two boys placed their rings around their wrists and walked over to Aslaug, who kissed them both.

Ragnar waited until they had taken their seats, then he leaned over to Aslaug.

"I'm taking the boys with me to Paris", he told her.

"They're too young", Aslaug objected.

"They're old enough to watch", Ragnar declared, "In any case, they will be safer with me than they were the last time with you."

* * *

In Wessex, King Egbert was sitting on his throne, addressing his court.

"I have made an important decision", he declared, "I want my grandson, Prince Alfred to go on a pilgrimage to Rome. Father Prudentius has agreed to act as his guide during this journey."

"Father, the boy is still too young", Athelwulf objected.

"That is why I want you to go with him, so you can protect and comfort your son", Egbert told him.

"But who will lead our armies against Mercia?" Athelwulf wanted to know, "Who will place its rightful queen at her throne?"

"I will personally lead our armies", Egbert decided.

* * *

Hundreds of ships were sailing out of the fjord, laden with Viking warriors. Ubba and Hvitserk were peering over the shields, watching as Kattegat disappeared in the distance.

"Don't waste your time looking back", Ragnar told them, "You're not going that way."

Sansa smiled as she heard it, sitting at one of the oars. Yidu was standing in the middle of the ship. No one knew why exactly she was coming with them. Apparently she had some medicine that Ragnar needed, but otherwise, her presence remained shrouded in mystery.

* * *

On another ship, Harald patted on Floki's back.

"How do you feel?" the Norwegian King asked.

"I feel happy", Floki grinned, "I feel among friends."

* * *

In Ragnar's ship, Bjorn was staring at the ring, when Torvi stepped behind him.

"That ring again", she said, "I don't understand – where did you find it?"

"I took it from a Berserker who was sent to kill me", Bjorn told her. He looked up and shot a glare over to Lagertha's boat, where Erlendur was sitting close to the prow.

* * *

"Sigurd, what is it?" Aslaug asked, looking up. Her son was standing in the door.

"Nothing", the boy answered sadly.

"Your brothers have gone", Aslaug guessed, "You have no one to play with? Play with your nieces."

"Do you want to play outside?" Sigurd asked Arya, Gyda and Siggy.

* * *

The fleet sunk into the darkness of the evening. Most of the warriors went to sleep. Torvi snuggled up alongside Bjorn, Ragnar wrapped himself in his cloak and sat against the ship's hull.

"Don't be afraid", Sansa told Ubba and Hvitserk. The two boys were having a hard time sleeping, their first night at sea.

Sansa was about to drift to sleep herself, when something bothered her. She could not say what, but something was wrong. With her eyes closed, she listened to the sail flapping over her head and smelt the salty water and the seaweeds growing on the ship's belly. Something _was_ odd.

Her eyes opened wide when she finally recognized the feeling. A storm was brewing around them.

* * *

In the morning, Ragnar and Bjorn saw in shock what damage they had suffered. They were blown off course, the ship nearly storm wrecked. The yardarm was broken, the sail had been torn in several places. What was more, half a dozen were missing.

"We have to head south", Bjorn concluded, "Sooner or later we will find the coast."

"I agree", Ragnar said, "There's nothing we can do for your sister anymore."

* * *

Sansa awoke, when a cold wave washed over her. Gurgling the water out of her throat, she realized her situation. She was in the water, no one around to be seen. One of her arms had entangled itself with a piece of rope to an oar, and likely kept her from drowning.

Desperately, she tried to shut out the pain from her head and her back. Her legs were stiff and cold, but she could move. Carefully, she loosened her trapped arm from the ropes.

As soon as she was free, Sansa went under. Not having the strength to keep herself at the surface, Sansa began to panic. Struggling fiercely, she somehow made it back to the surface. Two swift strokes brought her back to the oar, drifting nearby. Frantically, Sansa clutched to the wood, desperate not to let go.

* * *

"Father, what happened to Sansa?" Hvitserk asked once more.

"She went overboard in the storm", Ragnar told him, "She drowned."

Ragnar sat back against the wood. It had been the wrong decision to let her come, he thought. She should have stayed at home and see to her daughters, but her arguments had been strong as well. After all, she was the only one who could speak Frankish.

* * *

It felt like an eternity to Sansa, but in the end, she saw a Viking ship approach. Sansa cried and waved her arms, hoping to get the attention of someone aboard.

Erlendur stood on the prow, when he saw something drift in the water. Some debris from one of the ships, he thought. He almost turned away, when something _moved_. He looked once more – there was someone clutching to the debris.

Sansa watched as the ship turned around to meet her. It had the green and white sail and a ragged banner picturing a serpent flying over the mast – Lagertha's. When she was only a few feet away, someone threw a rope to her and Sansa let go of her oar. Clinging to the rope, Sansa let herself pull out of the water.

Lagertha was kneeling next to her, while she tried to cough up the salty water.

"What happened?" Lagertha asked her as Sansa stopped coughing.

"Storm, I guess", Sansa said tiredly.

"What about my son?" Lagertha wanted to know, "Is Bjorn out there as well?"

"…Don't know…" Sansa murmured as the world turned black before her eyes.

* * *

"Over there!" Torvi called out on Ragnar's ship. Two ships were visible in the distance. Bjorn pressed around the helm and they sailed closer.

"Who is it?" Ragnar asked.

"The left one looks like mother's", Bjorn replied, "The other one may be Harald or one of his – none of us has a yellow sail."

They sailed towards them and soon were in voice range.

"Hello Ragnar, I believe you're missing someone?" Lagertha called as they approached. She tried hard not to show how relieved she was that her son was alright.

"Hello, father!" Sansa called out from the middle of the ship.

"Sansa!" the boys enthused.

"We fished her out of the water just before we met Harald", Lagertha explained, "The rest of you is alright?"

"More or less", Ragnar smiled, "I'm glad you found her."

* * *

The three ships carefully entered the river. They hadn't come far, when Bjorn pointed out.

"Frankish Scouts", he said. The ships were swiftly turned and rowed to the beach, where two Frankish ships were already beached.

The Vikings disembarked from their boats in silence and headed towards the plume of smoke rising to the sky.

"You may need this", Lagertha said as she handed Sansa a spare axe.

The Frankish soldier was relieving himself behind a bush outside their camp, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around, stiff with fear and saw a Viking stand behind him, his axe raised.

Halfdan motioned with his fingers to keep quiet, while the others began to surround the Frankish camp.

* * *

Aslaug slowly walked towards the man standing in the door. She was uncertain whether she was dreaming or not, but it seemed to her that she recognized the man.

"Is that you, Harbard?" she asked.

"Who else could it be?" he replied.

"Why have you come back?" Aslaug wanted to know.

"I know of your pain", he told her, "I know how much you suffer. I have come here to make you free of the pain."

* * *

The battle was quickly over, the captured Franks were sitting tied up in the middle of the Viking Camp. One of them had been tied to a tree, Ubba and Hvitserk were using him as a practice target for their arrows.

"Ragnar!" Bjorn called out from outside the camp. Ragnar quickly walked up the hill to his son, followed by Harald and Halfdan.

Standing on top of the small hill, they could see a big fire burning nearby, and others in the distance.

"Signal fires", Ragnar stated, "The news of our arrival will soon reach Paris."

Harald grunted and walked back to the prisoners. He grabbed the rope that held several of them together and pulled them away.

"What are you doing?" Halfdan asked.

"I'm taking them for a walk", Harald explained smiling.

* * *

Lagertha and Sansa were sitting together, sharpening their axes.

"Are you really alright?" Lagertha asked, "You seem awfully quiet."

"I was just worried that I would never see my children again", Sansa replied, "What is Harald doing?"

"I don't know", Lagertha shrugged, "How are the twins?"

* * *

Harald guided the prisoners towards the burning signal fire. While Erlendur and Halfdan tied them to the tower, Floki climbed up and retrieved a couple of burning torches. They lit up all the tower and the Frankish prisoners screamed in agony as their clothes caught fire.

"Now we have sent another signal to Paris!" Harald declared, "Do you think they can see it?"

* * *

"Why do you ask Lagertha about your son and not me?" Erlendur's snide voice said behind Torvi.

"I trust her", Torvi replied.

"Don't be foolish", Erlendur said, "Lagertha can't protect your son. If I asked you to kill Bjorn, you will have to do it, otherwise I'll kill Guthrum."

* * *

Sansa was standing at the beach, sparring with Ubba, when she saw more Vikings approach the river. Dozens of ships, some battered by the storm, others unscathed.

"They're here!" she called, "Ubba, go tell father, that they finally arrived."

* * *

The next day, the whole fleet continued their journey towards Paris. The further they rowed inland, the more nervous Bjorn got.

"There's no sign of Rollo's camp", he finally stated.

"Of course not", Ragnar sighed in resignation. He hated being right.

Chewing some of Yidu's medicine, Ragnar stood up when he saw a group of Frankish riders on the bank of the river. One of them seemed awfully familiar.

Rollo was sitting on his horse, close enough to the forts to enable a quick retreat, if need be.

In the boats, the Viking leaders glared angrily at him. Ragnar struck his fist hard against the wooden planks of the boat, as he recognized his brother.

"This time, he's going to die", Sansa whispered to Bjorn, "He will not be spared again."

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 _A/N: So, this one was close to th Vikings episode again, I hope you don't mind that I am advancing this plot._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	43. The Profit and the Loss

**Chapter 43 The Profit and the Loss**

The Vikings had been setting up their camp, just a short way from the forts on either side of the river. Ragnar was chewing on some of Yidu's medicine, when Harald and Halfdan walked up to him.

"King Ragnar", Harald began, "I don't want to touch a raw nerve, but I understand that your brother betrayed you. And that he stands between us and Paris. What do you suggest we do?"

They had reached the commander's tent by now, and Ragnar snatched two cups from the table. He placed them on the ground, symbolizing the forts.

"I suggest we do the obvious", Ragnar told them, "We sail straight past the forts. And we protect our heads."

"But isn't that what your brother is expecting us to do?" Halfdan asked.

"Yes, But he isn't expecting us to attack by land", Ragnar explained, "In unison with the boats, we send a party on foot to the nearest fort, attack from behind and divert the archers away from the boats."

"I agree, the boats have a better chance without the archers hindering them", Lagertha told them.

"Any objections?" Bjorn asked.

"I'll lead that party by foot", Lagertha said matter-of-factly.

"What about the other fort?" Sansa asked, "If we don't attack both forts, we will still be hit from one side."

"Have you seen it?" Bjorn asked, "It's protected by a cliff to the rear. There's no way that an attack by land could be successful."

"I'm not thinking about attacking by land", Sansa explained smiling, "I'll take two ships, beach right underneath their walls and charge."

"And please, let our boat be the first one through", Harald asked Ragnar, who nodded.

"That is agreed, we attack tomorrow", Bjorn declared.

As the Viking leaders dispersed, Bjorn followed Erlendur.

"Erlendur!" he called out, "This belongs to you?"

Bjorn pulled the ring of his finger and showed it to Erlendur.

"Wasn't it your father's ring?"

Erlendur took a look at the ring and shrugged.

"I have never seen that ring before", he told Bjorn.

* * *

Ubba and Hvitserk walked up to Rangar.

"Father, can we fight tomorrow?" they asked.

"No", Ragnar said, "You're not strong enough, yet. But I want you to protect all the supplies and the food, can you do that for me?"

* * *

The next morning, the Viking fleet approached the gap between the forts. Harald's ship was at the point, followed close behind by Ragnar's. Sansa had taken a ship of her own, and was next to Harald, far off to the right side.

"I've waited for this", Harald told the others in his ship.

"The only reason to be alive", Halfdan agreed.

"The space between life and death", Floki mused behind them, "That's where we are the most alive."

They all picked up their shields holding them ready. In Ragnar's ship, Bjorn stepped next to his father.

"I hate my uncle", he stated, "I want to kill him."

* * *

Count Odo watched as the fleet approached.

"May god be with us this day!" he shouted across the river, where Rollo and Gisela were standing on the other fort.

"Don't be afraid", Rollo encouraged his wife.

"If I was afraid, I wouldn't be here", she smiled.

* * *

Lagertha led her warriors through the high grass towards the fort. She looked down in surprise, when she felt water. The fort was surrounded by a hidden swamp. Knowing that the attack was delayed, she closed her eyes in resignation, when she heard the horn signal. Quickly, Lagertha urged her group forward.

Rollo was standing on the fort, watching the river, when his eyes caught movement to his side. He turned around and saw the Vikings approach his fort from the land, stuck in the swamp. He quickly ordered some of his crossbowmen to the other side, where they loosened a volley of arrows onto the attackers.

* * *

"Row!" Sansa shouted when Bjorn sounded the horn. The two ships quickly gained speed and placed themselves a little in front of Harald.

The crossbowmen on the forts began to loosen bolts on the boats as they neared. The Northmen hid behind their shields, protecting them. All oars were pulled as fast as they could, the boats raced towards the gap.

"Where is your mother?" Ragnar asked Bjorn, realizing that the attack should draw many more crossbowmen towards them.

"Hard starboard!" Sansa commanded, as her two ships were far in front of everyone else, yet not through the gap.

Count Odo watched from his fort, as two of the ships turned towards him. They rowed towards the bank of the river, just below his fort.

Lagertha realized that her warriors were an easy target for the Franks. They were getting hit by bolts and they were still stuck in the swamp.

"Everybody up!" she ordered, "Run over to the left flank!"

Her warriors followed her. Erlendur needed help getting out of the swamp, he was stuck up to his hip in the water.

Once they had reached hard ground, the Vikings formed a shield wall, protecting them against the bolts. Slowly, they moved towards the fort, while the Frankish crossbowmen kept shooting at them.

The two ships had beached beneath the fort and the Vikings were jumping on the beach, led by Sansa. They held their shields up, trying to protect themselves from the bolts, loosened from the fort.

Harald and Halfdan smiled at each other, when their ships was at the same line with the forts. They were still ducking behind their shields, but it seemed to work. Their eyes widened in shock as a thick iron chain snapped out of the water in front of them, too close for comfort.

"Stop!" Harald ordered, just as the rest of the fleet slowed. They were too close, however. With a crashing sound, the boat drifted against the chain, and was lifted from the water. Screams were heard as they capsized and the Vikings fell into the water.

Sansa looked over her shoulder, the chain rising right next to her had covered her in spray. With the chain in place, there was no way, they could force their way through, she realized.

Franks were loading catapults and shot volleys of oil-filled balloons at the Viking boats. One of them also hit Sansa's shield wall, where it exploded and released its contents over the Vikings.

Suddenly, the air was filled with burning arrows, incinerating the oil. Shrill shrieks were heard, as men, shields, clothes or boats were catching fire.

The shield wall below Count Odo's fort was ablaze. The most of the warrior's had been killed by the fire, the others were taken down by crossbows.

Sansa staggered back, when a flaming arrow hit her leg, lighting the oil that had dripped onto her pants. Clenching her teeth, she stumbled towards the water, to extinguish the fire. She let out a cry of pain, as the arrow broke and the arrowhead dug itself deeper into her flesh. To her surprise, the water was unable to extinguish the fire. Sansa felt the burns already inside her leg. She dived into the water and dived deep under the surface until she reached Ragnar's ship.

Halfdan, still wet from the water himself, pulled her out, while Bjorn was just giving Harald a hand.

Floki was drowning. The boat builder had never learnt to swim. Now he was struggling to reach the surface of the river, after King Harald's ship had capsized. Finally, a hand reached down and dragged him up by his shirt.

Gasping for air, he came to the surface, before recognizing his savior. It was Ragnar. Bjorn threw a rope into the water and Ragnar dragged Floki to it, until they were both pulled onto the boat.

The shield wall shattered as they were hit by crossbowmen, hid in the woods behind them. Warriors went down all around, as they were hammered with bolts from all sides. One of the shield maidens was hit in the throat, right next to Lagertha.

"Retreat!" Lagertha ordered, helping her friend up and carried her away.

"Shields!" Bjorn urged, "Cover the others!"

Ragnar still dripping wet from Floki's rescue was standing in the middle of the boat.

"WHEN EVERYONE WANTED YOU DEAD, I KEPT YOU ALIVE!" he yelled at Rollo, "AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY MY LOVE FOR YOU?"

The boat slowly turned and the fleet moved away from the battlefield, back to the camp.

* * *

The ferry brought Rollo and Gisela over the river, where they were already awaited by Count Odo.

"A great victory, Your Grace", Odo congratulated Rollo, while Gisela watched as the Frankish soldiers killed the badly wounded Vikings.

"So many women…" she stated, "Who would have thought? They're as brave as the men."

"Sometimes they are much braver", Rollo told her, "The fiercest one is called Lagertha."

"Do you know her?" Gisela asked in surprise.

"She was my brother's wife", Rollo explained, "And his daughter is the same."

"This Lagertha, is she with them now?" Gisela asked, "Did you see them?"

"They're both here", Rollo told her.

"Maybe I will see her as well", Gisela smiled, "Perhaps even meet her."

"From what I've heard, you already met my niece last year", Rollo told her, "Are you so eager to find yourself with them again?"

"Of course I remember", Gisela replied, "But you never told me that she was your niece. What is she called? Where was she today?"

"Her name is Sansa", Rollo reminded her, "She led the attack on this fort here, I think."

* * *

In Kattegat, Aslaug was walking next to Harbard.

"Why have you come back?" she asked, "You could not know that Ragnar was away in Paris."

"No, but I heard about the raid on Paris", Harbard told her, "I heard that King Ragnar was very sick. In fact, I wondered if he was still alive…"

"He is gone back to Paris", Aslaug informed him, "This time he has taken Ubba and Hvitserk with him. He's punishing me for what happened last time."

Harbard looked deep in her eyes, before he bowed to Aslaug and kissed her. The queen felt herself surprised by such a move in public, yet she didn't object.

* * *

The ships were slowly rowed back to the camp. The camp was located just behind the next curve of the river, when Sansa sniffed the air.

"Is that us, or am I smelling smoke?" she asked anxiously. Bjorn sniffed as well, then nodded.

"That is smoke", he agreed.

The boats were beached at the camp and they all saw the utter destruction. Bodies were lying everywhere, between burnt down tents. Some were still smoking, the smell of death and destruction hanging in the air.

"Go on, find our brothers", Sansa urged Bjorn, when he began to help her up from her seat in the boat. She remained behind, while everyone ran ashore, searching and calling for their loved ones.

"Floki!" Halfdan called as he recognized one of the women lying in the grass. Floki came running and knelt down next to his wife. To his relief, Helga was still breathing, although her body was badly burned.

At the same time, Torvi, Yidu, Ubba, Hvitserk and everyone who got away from the attack emerged from their hiding spot. Ragnar embraced his sons, Torvi was kissed by Bjorn, only Yidu was standing forlorn in between.

"Your brothers are alright", Halfdan told Sansa when he returned to the ship and helped her up. Sansa tried to smile, which was hard for her, because every move sent a wave of pain through her leg.

Lagertha was wrapping a linen cloth over the dead body of one of her shield maidens. The pyres were built and many fires were burning bright in the twilight of the evening.

* * *

Sigurd, was standing on the terrace of the great hall in Kattegat, overlooking the main Square. Harbard was surrounded by women, old and young, and he kissed them all.

Inside the hall, Aslaug was holding the little Arya in her arms, trying to get her granddaughter to sleep.

* * *

Ragnar entered Yidu's tent.

"Give me some of that Chinese medicine", he demanded.

"But King Harald said…", Yidu protested.

"I don't care what he said", Ragnar interrupted her, "Look, woman, the day went very badly. I won't argue, just give it to me."

Reluctantly, Yidu pulled a bit out of her pocket and handed it to Ragnar.

* * *

Sansa was applying bandages to her burned leg, when Bjorn sat down next to her.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Better than Helga, I guess", Sansa frowned, "I'll survive."

"This was our father's fault", Bjorn said desperately, "The plan was flawed."

"The plan was well enough", Sansa disagreed, "But Rollo did think of these possibilities as well. It's his fault… And maybe ours for letting him stay here."

Bjorn shook his head and left the tent. Sansa grimaced as she tried to put weight on her wounded leg for the first time. But the pain became unbearable and so she fell back to her cot.

"You should take it easy for a few days", Halfdan said as he sat down next to her, "I suggest you sit out the next attack."

"Maybe I will", Sansa laughed lightly.

"Speaking of attacking, I wanted to ask whether we have a new plan already", Halfdan inquired.

"That is up to my father", Sansa reminded him, "He is in command. Why don't you ask him?"

"He's in his tent, and in a bad mood it seems", Halfdan grinned, "I'd much rather talk to you."

"Hand me a cup of ale, please", Sansa said. Halfdan nodded and handed her a horn. When Sansa took it from his hand, their fingers touched for a moment and the atmosphere in the tent became tense.

Without either of them being able to stop themselves, the both leaned forward, and their lips met in a hungry kiss.

* * *

The morning sun rose over the Viking camp, as Bjorn walked up to his father's tent. Ragnar was shivering.

"We have waited three days for a new plan to attack", he told Ragnar, "What is your decision?"

"Tomorrow, we go back downriver", Ragnar told him, "We retreat."

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 _A/N: I always felt the plan to force their way past the forts was a little flawed, mainly because they only attacked one of the forts. So I decided to alter it a little... still they don't succeed that easily.  
_

 _Don't forget to review!_


	44. Portage

_A/N: 25,000 views on this story - **Thank you all!**  
_

 _And thank you for the heap of reviews this story received the last week!  
_

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 **Chapter 41 Portage**

The sails and banners were torn as the Viking fleet rowed away from the camp in defeat. The mood was grim, shoulders were hanging low.

In Lagertha's boat, Sansa and Harald were talking.

"We came here, drawn by the magic of Ragnar Lothbrok", Harald reminded her, "We thought, no one could stop him. In our world, we cannot accept compromise. We cannot accept failure. Someone has to take responsibility."

He turned around and began to walk away from her.

"If I were you, I wouldn't talk about my father like this to my face", she glared, "In any case, I wouldn't say we're defeated, yet."

Bjorn was standing on the helm of Ragnar's boat, Ragnar was sitting next to him, chewing Yidu's medicine.

"You know this weakens you", Bjorn stated, "This weakens you in every way."

* * *

King Egbert was riding at the point of his army, returning from their campaign against Mercia. He was greeted by his court and Bishop Edmund, as well as Kwentrith and Judith.

"God bless the King!" they shouted.

"Thank you, I feel blessed indeed", Egbert said, "We have won a great victory. God be praised!"

"So there is no more ruling council?" Kwentrith wanted to know.

"Not when all the councilors are lying in the earth", Egbert told her.

"Then I am Queen again!" she enthused.

"Now, forgive me, I am weary", Egbert said, "I must rest."

* * *

Boredom had the Vikings in its claws, as the boats slowly drifted downriver. Everyone was sitting as comfortable as they could get, following their own thoughts. Ragnar suddenly stood up, watching the cliffs pass on the bank of the river.

"Bjorn, tell everyone we're going to make camp here", Ragnar said suddenly.

"Why would we camp here?" Bjorn wanted to know.

"Just do it", Ragnar shouted.

The horn sounded loud over the fleet and the boats were rowed towards the bank. The two boats, carrying the leaders were the first to beach.

"What are we doing here?" Lagertha asked, as she crossed over to Ragnar's boat.

"Yes, and what is the point of making camp here?" Harald joined in, as Ragnar stepped onto the stony shore.

"We should be continuing downriver", Halfdan urged, "When we came up, we saw a few sizeable settlements, they were ripe for attacking!"

"Yes, but they aren't Paris", Ragnar objected.

"We have left Paris behind", Bjorn asked in confusion.

"Maybe you have", Ragnar replied, "I haven't."

"Then what is your plan?" Harald wanted to know, "No one here understand what you want to say."

"Maybe they should start listening and stop talking", Sansa interrupted him, "Father, please tell me that you're _not_ considering the same crazy idea that I just had."

Ragnar grinned sheepishly and Sansa rolled her eyes.

"We're going to lift the boats up that cliff", Sansa explained, "Carry them over the mountains and then slide them back into the water, upstream from the forts."

They all looked at her in shock. Lagertha's mouth was open, unsure what to say about this idea.

"Carry them?" Halfdan finally asked, "Up there?!"

"You can do that, Floki, can't you?" Ragnar challenged him.

"I can do it", Floki smiled after a moment's thought, "I'll do it for you, Ragnar. Everything I do is for you."

* * *

"We have important matters to discuss", Kwentrith said as she stepped in front of Egbert.

"Indeed we have", Egbert agreed, "Please sit."

"You know of course that I am with child", Kwentrith began, "Your son is the father. And it is necessary that I return to Mercia as the true queen."

"You are no longer the Queen of Mercia", Egbert said bluntly.

"But if the council is dead…" Kwentrith asked in consternation.

"You are no longer the Queen", Egbert explained, "Because I am the King. Before they were put to death, the ruling council saw fit to put their seals under these documents. Formally, your eviction from the throne and my assumption of it are legal, both in the eyes of men and of god."

Kwentrith leaped over the table, her fists raining down on Egbert.

"You MONSTER!" she screamed, "How do you sleep at night?"

Guards entered the room and dragged the former Queen of Mercia away.

* * *

Floki had fastened logs so they would crane over the edge of the cliffs. Finally, the first boat was fastened to the ropes and lifted from the water, pulled up by the men on top of the cliff.

Ragnar, Bjorn and Sansa were standing at the bottom of the cliff, each holding or preparing a guiding rope, as Harald and Halfdan walked up to them.

"King Ragnar, you're insane", Harald stated as he watched the boat being lifted, "This is beautiful. After everything we heard from you, we still underestimated you."

"We are honored to be here with you", Halfdan agreed, "Doing the impossible."

* * *

Rollo, Gisela and Charles were eating a private dinner in the palace.

"I wish to commend you for your valor in the defeat of the Northmen", Charles raised his cup.

"Defeat?" Rollo asked.

"They have retreated", Charles reminded him, "Their chances of attacking again have diminished."

"As long as my brother is still alive, he is not defeated", Rollo warned them.

* * *

They had to stop working at nightfall. It was just too dangerous. One of the crews had already let go of their ropes and a ship had fallen back into the river and the increasing darkness elevated the risk greatly.

Five men had been killed when the boat had buried them underneath its hull, another dozen had been injured. What was more, the boat that had fallen and the boat on which it had crashed were too severely damaged to be of any more use.

Although reluctant for the delay, Ragnar had given the order to abort the work for the night. Now everyone was sitting in the camp amongst the cliffs.

"You must be as insane as your father", Halfdan told Sansa as he handed her a slice of meat and a cup of ale, "You were the only one to have the same idea."

"I often have weird ideas", Sansa replied, "It's more like my father and I share almost a single mind, by now. Otherwise we'd never have taken Paris in the first place."

"What do you mean?" Halfdan wanted to know, "The ploy to get your father into the city by pretending that he died?"

"I was already there", Sansa smiled, "I had let them take me prisoner to get inside the city."

"And they let you live?" Halfdan queried, "You're lucky they did, but they probably should have killed you right away."

"I believe they figured, any king would lift the siege, when his daughter was held hostage", Sansa grinned.

* * *

The little boy was dragging his mother along by her hand.

"Sigurd, where are you taking me?" Aslaug asked.

"You have to come", Sigurd insisted.

Aslaug gave in and followed him to a small house in the outskirts of Kattegat. As Sigurd looked at her expectantly, Aslaug entered the house. Inside, two young women were lying naked on Harbard, kissing him passionately.

A rather similar scene unfolded before Bjorn's eyes, as he entered his sister's tent. Sansa was lying naked under the furs, snuggled up next to a sleeping Halfdan.

Before Bjorn could retreat unnoticed, Sansa opened her eyes.

"Good morning, brother", she smiled.

"Good morning", Bjorn replied hesitantly.

"I wanted to see how you are holding up", he added after a moment, "But I guess you are well cared for."

* * *

Emperor Charles was sitting on his throne, his court assembled before him. The dead body of Count Odo was lying in the middle.

"Count Odo has betrayed me", he declared, "Therefore, he has been executed by my orders for high treason."

* * *

Bjorn was standing on the side of the ship that was slowly lifted up the cliff. Sansa's burned leg had mostly healed by now and she was carrying a pack of food up the cliff. Passing Floki, she stopped for a moment. The boatbuilder was smiling.

"It's working", she complimented him, "Well done, Floki."

* * *

Egbert looked at Kwentrith and her son with pity as his guards dragged them before him.

"I hope you understand that I cannot allow you to leave", Egbert told her, "Especially not with Magnus."

"What do you care?" Kwentrith spat.

"He is the son of Ragnar Lothbrok", Egbert explained, "When he returns, I want to show him the son he has and how well I cared for and protected him. What is more, the father of your unborn child is my son – am I not entitled to show an interest in his future? And besides, where did you plan on going?"

"As far away from you as I can", Kwentrith glared.

"That is unacceptable", Egbert smiled gravely, "You will be confined and I will place guards around the villa. Do not attempt to escape again."

* * *

After many days of hard work, all of the boats had been lifted up the cliffs. Some were staying behind, making camp on the bank of the river, the others prepared to march.

"Helga, I must leave", Floki said as he sat down in front of his wife, "But you must stay here and get well."

"Don't die, Floki", Helga said, before kissing him goodbye.

* * *

Ragnar and Yidu were sitting down at the beach, hidden from everyone else.

"I'm leaving", Ragnar told her, "I need you what you have left of that Chinese medicine."

"There's nothing left", Yidu replied.

"You're lying again", Ragnar accused her, "I only wanted you to come so you could get me that medicine!"

"I am here because you said I was free", she answered.

"I never said that you were free", Ragnar disagreed, "I said you could come. And go."

"You're a liar", Yidu spat, "You lied to me and you lied to your people. What if I told them about the slaughter in Wessex?"

Yidu began to walk away, but Ragnar grabbed her arms and pushed her into the shallow water. Ignoring her hands hammering down on him, he held the former slave under the water. After a while, Yidu's resistance ceased and her eyes became empty. Ragnar snatched the pocket with the medicine from her belt.

When he looked up, he saw Sansa stand behind him.

"What happened?" Sansa wanted to know when she saw the body drift in the river. Ragnar merely grinned at her and showed her the pocket with the medicine. Together, they pushed Yidu's body into the water and watched as the current carried her away.

* * *

The moment to begin the next part of their journey had come. Bjorn, Ragnar and Sansa said their goodbyes to Ubba and Hvitserk.

"Make sure you disguise the boat from the Franks", Sansa told them.

"Take care of Helga", Ragnar smiled.

They hugged each of the boys, before they joined the group of those who transported the boats. The path was prepared with halved logs, on which the boats were sliding on sledges. Warriors in front of each boat were pulling, others were holding back behind them, securing the boats against sliding free.

* * *

The knife close to his throat, Kwentrith woke Egbert.

"How does it feel to be so close to death, mighty King Egbert?" Kwentrith asked, "With one stab, I could kill you. And my unborn child is the future ruler of Wessex."

"If you killed me, my guards would kill you with no questions asked", Egbert smiled at her. They both shared a hysterical laugh, until Kwentrith began to cry.

"Oh, how much better would it have been, had I been born a man!" she complained. Suddenly her body jerked and Princess Judith was standing behind her, clad in a nightgown and a knife raised high. Kwentrith looked at her in shock for a moment, then her fingers lost their grip and Kwentrith's knife fell clattering loudly to the floor.

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 _A/N: So, they are trying to get to Paris once more._

 _I know that it is getting too close to the original Vikings once more, but for now, I need to advance this plot for a little... I will however use the timeline jump in Season 4 of Vikings to fill it with additional adventures, so it will get better._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	45. Death all around

**Chapter 45 Death all around**

„PULL!" the command came and the group of Viking warriors put all their strength on the ropes, heaving the boat over the wooden logs under its keel. Ragnar was chopping at another log, watching Lagertha struggle on the ropes, encumbered by her enlarged belly.

Erlendur shot a glance to the rope on the other side of the boat, where Bjorn and Torvi were working side by side. Both seemed comfortable around themselves and the sight of them sickened him.

Still healing from the burns on her leg, Sansa had excused herself from the heavy work of pulling on the ropes. Instead she was carrying a bucket with water, keeping the wooden logs wet to ease the boat sliding over them.

* * *

Harald and Halfdan had been tasked with scouting the country in the vicinity of the path. Ragnar had wanted to make sure that there was no Frankish ambush waiting for them, and the two brothers had eagerly agreed to the task.

Halfdan was standing behind some bushes, overlooking a Frankish farm. Harald signaled him from behind to move further. They led their warriors to the houses.

Halfdan entered a shed and several chicken screeched around. Sensing an opportunity, Halfdan plundered the nest and collected a couple of eggs. He broke the first one carefully open and swallowed the raw egg with a smile.

He left the shed and encountered his brother as Harald left the main building.

"Eggs?" Halfdan asked, throwing one at his brother. Harald missed and the raw egg splattered all over his jacket. Harald looked at him, dumbfounded for a moment, then began to laugh.

"There are women here", he told his brother.

They all entered another stable, searching in the hay for the hidden inhabitants of the farm. Finally, Halfdan pointed upwards. One of the warriors swung his axe at a pillar and the attic came crashing down, delivering two shivering young women into the hay.

* * *

Finally arrived in Rome, Athelwulf and Father Prudentius ushered Alfred through the streets filled with beggars, vagabonds, whores and many who were trying to sell worthless relics to unsuspecting pilgrims.

Finally, they had their audience with the pope. He blessed them, before he urged Athelwulf and Prudentius to come forward first.

"Like a shepherd for his sheep, we care very much for our flock in England", the pope began, "We are saddened to see these pagan armies attack you. I fear that if the people don't do penance for their many sins and transgressions, then a great and crushing disaster will swiftly come upon you."

"And that is why we look to the future, to you Prince Alfred", he continued, "Come forward."

Alfred walked forward carefully, and kissed the pope's hand.

"I have something amazing to show you", the pope told the young boy, "Here in Rome, we have many treasures, and this is what I consider the most valuable."

He opened a gilded chest.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked the prince. Alfred shook his head.

"When our Lord was brought to the place of crucifixion, what did the pagans make him carry?" the pope quizzed him.

"His own cross", Alfred answered, proud that he had learned that.

"And what did they place upon his head?" the pope wanted to know.

"A crown of thorns", Alfred told him.

"Indeed", the pope agreed, "This is one of these very thorns that cut our savior's head."

* * *

After the scouts had returned to the main force, Harald was roasting a lamb over a fire.

"The farmer was a generous man", Harald joked, "With all his goods…"

"Did you kill them?" Bjorn asked as he stepped to the group.

"Of course we killed them", Harald smiled, "He could have ridden off and told the Franks all about us. You would have done the same."

"I never said I blamed you", Bjorn replied.

* * *

In Lagertha's tent, Sansa was just cleaning up the blood from the miscarriage. The younger woman looked up and saw Torvi walk about outside.

"Torvi!" she called, "Get Bjorn and Ragnar!"

Torvi went off and Sansa turned back to her stepmother.

"It would seem as if we have been here before", she stated bitterly, "Are you alright?"

* * *

A heavy storm was raining over Kattegat, the water forming small creeks in the middle of the streets. No one was outside, everyone had sought shelter in their houses. Even the rats were not coming outside, mostly hiding under tables or roofs.

A woman was standing in the rain, crying. She didn't seem to notice the dripping fabric of her elegant dress or the water streaming all over her body.

"Harbard!" Aslaug cried, "HARBARD!"

Finally, she broke down in the middle of the sandy street, still sobbing.

* * *

Ragnar and Bjorn stormed into the tent, where Lagertha was staring into the air. Sansa was cleaning her hands with a blanket and looked up when she saw them.

"I lost my child", Lagertha stated flatly, "I knew I could never have the child, no matter what I did. The seer told me so a long time ago. But I still hoped to alter the fate…"

"It's alright", Ragnar told her as he held her close, "It's alright…"

* * *

Rollo and Gisela walked into the throne room side by side.

"Your Grace, daughter", the Emperor greeted them, "How proud I am that we can now announce that you are with child."

Applause filled the room for a moment, then the Emperor raised his hand again.

"And I also have to thank you for defeating the northmen, Your Grace", Charles said, "But I wonder what has been done to ensure that they have really left?"

"Your Highness, I have already sent boats downriver to scout and ascertain the truth of it", Rollo told him, "I suspect that my brother would likely plunder Rouen or other cities, rather than return to his people empty handed, so I have already sent word to the coastal towns to prepare their defenses."

"Very well", Charles complimented him, "And I have to thank someone else for his brave service. Therefore, I name Sire Roland Count Roland, defender of Paris."

Roland stepped forward and bowed before the Emperor.

"Thank you your highness", he said, "I assure you I am ready to sacrifice myself at any moment for the sake of Paris and Your Highness's greater glory."

* * *

Gyda, Arya, Siggy and Sigurd were playing outside. The rain had almost ceased and the puddles standing in the middle of the road were great opportunities to let small models of boats run down the street.

"I hungry", Gyda finally stated.

"Then let's go snatch something from the kitchen", Sigurd suggested. The four small children ran into the great hall and carefully snatched the bread from the table, as well as a piece of cheese. Walking outside, they sat down and Sigurd tried his best to tear it apart into for equal portions.

* * *

Bishop Edmund was standing under a pavilion in the open court of the royal villa in Wessex. King Aelle and his daughter Judith were standing a little to the side, watching the events unfold. Finally, Egbert walked up to the bishop.

"Egbert of Wessex, we have come here today to crown you King of Wessex and Mercia", the Bishop declared, "With this holy chrisom I annoint thee".

Edmund dripped a little of the oil on Egbert's head before wiping it dry with a piece of cloth.

"By the power invested in me and by god's undoubted will", the bishop said, "I crown you, with this most ancient crown."

* * *

"Ironside! Come and see!" Harald called out to Bjorn who was still working on the boats on their sledges.

"To see what?" Bjorn asked, trying to catch his breath.

"Trust me, it's worth it", Harald replied, "All of you, come!

The Vikings let their work rest for a moment, and followed Harald to the edge of the forest. In front of them, there was a grassy hill and in the far distance, they could see the towers of Paris.

Sansa cheered as all others, before she helped Lagertha up from a stretcher, where she had been carried these last days.

"We made it!" Halfdan cheered and clapped on Bjorn's back.

Ragnar was feeling the emptiness of Yidu's medicine pouch between his fingers before he turned to Floki.

"We're not finished yet", Ragnar told his old friend, "There's one more thing you have to do."

* * *

"Where is Siggy?" Arya asked as the three children met each other in the market place.

"I don't know", Sigurd said, "Is mother watching her?"

"No, she sleepy", Gyda told them, "We find her."

The three of them dispersed all over the city, looking for their missing friend.

* * *

At night, Bjorn and Torvi where lying together in their tent.

"You are a mystery to me, Torvi", Bjorn sighed, "When I asked you to come with me, you did, you never asked for anything. What can I give you?"

"Perhaps you could have asked me that a long time ago", Torvi answered.

"When I first met you, I saw something", Bjorn told her, "A wildness, only just contained. I know that my being the son of Ragnar Lothbrok has little meaning in your staying with me."

Neither of them noticed Erlendur watching from outside the tent and listening to every word.

* * *

Sigurd placed a small boat in the creek and watched it slowly drift underneath the bridge. Arya applauded and they both climbed down into the water to follow the ship. Heading along the river, they stopped when they saw the dead body of a young girl. The blonde locks were lying in her face and Sigurd carefully stroked them away. It was Siggy.

* * *

One after the other, the boats were launched back into the river. Ragnar and Sansa were both working on a log they were splitting into planks. Lagertha was struggling with her recovery and tried to heave a barrel of fresh water back into one of the boats that were already afloat.

Bjorn was straightening a few nails with hammer and anvil, when he saw Torvi walk up to him, carrying Erlendur's crossbow.

"Erlendur has told me to kill you", she explained. Bjorn let out a sigh. Torvi shut her eyes for a moment, as if it helped to make that awful decision she had to make disappear.

"What are you waiting for?" Bjorn asked her.

Torvi raised the crossbow and took carefully aim, then pulled the trigger. The bolt missed Bjorn and hit right where Torvi had aimed, centered in Erlendur's chest.

Bjorn stepped towards her and held her close for a moment.

"You're safe now", he whispered as he pressed a kiss on the crown of her skull. Then he let go of his lover and stepped towards the dying Erlendur. Bjorn took the ring he had taken from the berserker and showed it to Erlendur, before leaving it dangling around the bolt.

* * *

"Your move", Ivar urged his mother as they were sitting together in the great hall, playing hnefatafl.

"I don't want to", Aslaug replied, so drunk she was barely able to keep her eyes open.

"Move!" Ivar urged again. Reluctantly Aslaug moved one of her stones, before taking another large gulp from her goblet of wine.

Ivar quickly made his move, then smiled triumphantly.

"That was stupid", he told Aslaug, "You lose!"

"Don't call me stupid", Aslaug warned him, "I'm the only reason you are still alive."

"Siggy is dead", Sigurd interrupted them.

"Who?" Aslaug asked in confusion.

"Arya and I found her body in the river", the boy explained.

"I thought…" Aslaug stammered, "Someone was taking care of her."

"No, obviously not", Sigurd pointed out as Aslaug giggled into her goblet and took another sip of wine.

* * *

Sansa was already wearing her battle gear as she sat down next to Torvi.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"I don't know", Torvi told her, "I thought I would feel more…"

"Afraid?" Sansa asked, "Shocked?"

"No, relieved", Torvi sighed, "And maybe a little more shocked at what I did."

"There is no need for you to be afraid", Sansa encouraged her, "He can't hurt you or your son anymore. And it's always special once you first kill someone."

"That's easy for you to say", Torvi spat, "You are a shieldmaiden, a warrior. You surely haven't felt fear in your entire life. And you have been waiting for your turn on the battlefield. I'm not like that. I killed a man I never loved and now I have agreed to join the attack. But I cannot help it, I'm afraid to death."

"Well we don't know each other very well yet, so I forgive you", Sansa told her sternly, "But if you'd know how I was in my childhood, and what I've endured, you wouldn't talk like this. The first time I was standing on a battlefield, was against your first husband. With about one month of training in me, I was young, dumb and lucky. Too stupid to really be afraid."

* * *

"The boats are on the wat…" Bjorn said as he entered his father's tent. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Ragnar trashing wildly around at the empty fur.

"Are you alright?" Bjorn wanted to know.

"Yes, I will be fine", Ragnar sighed.

"It's what Yidu gave you, isn't it?" Bjorn questioned.

"She told me it was medicine", Ragnar explained, "But now I feel poisoned without it."

"Then take some more", Bjorn urged him.

"I only have a little bit left", Ragnar complained, "I need it to fight Rollo."

"I need you", Bjorn said, "Paris cannot be taken without you."

"I don't care about Paris", Ragnar objected, "I came for Rollo."

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 _A/N: Sorry to all of you who secretly hoped I would save Siggy - I just could not find a reasonable way of doing it, without replacing her with one of the other children..._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	46. The Last Ship

_A/N: A rather short chapter, just to finish the attack on Paris. Next up is a bit of GoT once more..._

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 **Chapter 46 The Last Ship**

The Viking fleet was slowly rowing towards Paris. By Ragnar's orders, always three ships had been tied to a raft, forming larger platforms which would enable the warriors to fight.

"Look! Upriver!" Halfdan pointed outward. Harald nodded.

Ragnar had seen it as well. Frankish ships moving to intercept them.

* * *

"Raise your standards!" Rollo commanded in his ship, "Front line – advance! May God be with us!"

The Frankish soldiers quickly obeyed his orders and the first line of the Frankish ships rowed towards the Viking fleet.

* * *

"Sound the horns!" Bjorn ordered in Ragnar's ship. One of the warriors blew into the horn and all the Viking ships moved into a line. Arrows were nocked and swords drawn. Everyone was ready.

* * *

Gisela was kneeling alone in the church.

"Holy mother", she prayed, "Please don't forget my husband. I am carrying his child – a Christian child. Please forgive my husband his sins who is also at this time trying to protect this place of worship."

* * *

The burning patches on the arrows were lit and then the Vikings loosened a volley at the Franks. Some arrows landed in the water, others hit soldiers. A few even stuck into the wooden planks of the ships or set fire to the rigging.

* * *

Despite being shot at, the Frankish ships came ever closer, until finally a few Franks threw grappling hooks onto the Viking ships. The Frankish soldiers tried to climb aboard the rafts, where they were met by the Vikings.

Bjorn stepped forward, leaving Ragnar standing at the back, before he swung his sword at a Frank, the blade glancing off from his helmet. An upward thrust into the Frank's exposed throat caused his opponent to fall to the ground, dying.

Sansa's axe penetrated a Frankish soldier's armor, before she lunged forward and quickly cut through the rope, holding the Frankish ship grappled against the Viking ship. The warriors cheered as the Franks were slowly drifting away from them.

* * *

"What are your orders?" a Frankish soldier asked Rollo.

"My orders?" Rollo asked in confusion.

"Should we break off the attack?" the soldier clarified, "We have already sustained considerable losses. Perhaps it would be better if we regathered…"

He stopped speaking as Rollo's sword entered his body. Rollo pushed the dying man overboard and turned to his men.

"All of my life and all of your lives have come to this point", he told them, "There is nowhere else to be but here. We will continue the attack, until we reach and overcome their King or die in the attempt!"

The men cheered and the Frankish boats rowed towards the Viking Fleet.

* * *

"What is he going to do?" Sansa asked, as Ragnar swallowed the last bit of Yidu's medicine.

"What he always does", Ragnar rolled with his eyes, "Attack."

"We are ready for him", Bjorn told them.

"Ragnar what else can be done?" Lagertha asked as she stepped to them.

"There is nothing to be done", Ragnar replied.

"Do the gods favor us?" she wanted to know.

"Of course they favor us", Sansa declared, "How could they favor Rollo after he renounced them?"

Bjorn loosened a single arrow, aimed at Rollo. The arrow made it across and dug itself into the wooden mast, only a few inches away from Rollo's head.

The Frankish ships crashed into the rafts, tearing down the slight walls that were fastened around them. Frankish soldiers swarmed over and began to fight the Northmen.

Lagertha quickly blocked a swordblade with her shield, before her own sword hammered down on an unprotected Frankish head.

Bjorn stabbed his dagger into a Frank's shoulder, causing the blood to pump out as he withdrew the blade.

Sansa pulled her sword out of a Frank's head, just before she punched one with her shield. Stabbing downwards, the blade cut through the air between the Frank's legs. Making contact with his flesh, Sansa pulled her sword backwards cutting through clothing and flesh and blood kept pumping from the cleaving wound.

Harald was just finishing off his opponent, unable to see the sword aimed at his head. Just in time, Halfdan caught it with his axe, saving his brother's life.

Floki whirled around, causing the Frankish Soldier to lose his balance. A swift strike brought the boatbuilder's hatchet down on his face, crushing the skull.

Bjorn was fighting without shield, deflecting a sword with a blow from his own. He changed direction and the sword hit the Frank right on his chest, causing him to go down.

Lagertha ducked under a sword, then stabbed the Frank in his belly.

Sansa's head was thrown a little backwards when a sword passed only a little in front of her face. Turning around, she threw a blow at the Frankish soldier, which he blocked. Letting her shield rotate in her hand, she covered herself as she stabbed on her opponent's unguarded side.

Halfdan was laughing loudly, as his throwing axe cut into a Frank's helmet. Harald was defending himself with his shield, before his sword opened the Frankish soldier's face.

* * *

Gisela had tears in her eyes as she placed Rollo's armring in front of the statue of St. Mary. Hoping that this offering would help the Frankish forces to gain a victory, she turned around and left the chapel.

* * *

Ragnar and Rollo stepped forward at the same time, their swords in their hands. They lunged forward and the blades met, before they both stepped back. Ragnar eyed Rollo up and down, taking in the new, Frankish look.

"Look at you", he spat, "You look like a bitch. Not like my brother, never have been."

"One of us will die today", he added.

"It won't be me, brother", Rollo told him.

The two brothers began hacking at each other with their swords, neither one getting hit. Finally Rollo's sword connected slightly with Ragnar's battle Jacket, causing the Viking King to stagger backwards.

Rollo kept hammering down on his brother, Ragnar retreating step for step until Ragnar dive under Rollo's blade and wrestled the sword out of Rollo's hand. A wide-arced swing, aimed at the side of Rollo's head was caught by Rollo, who in turn disarmed Ragnar. Both brothers were locked in a deadly embrace, each trying to grapple with the other's gear.

Rollo punched Ragnar in the face, the same time as Ragnar's fist connected with his collarbone.

Floki was defending himself with his axe, but the Frankish soldier was faster than him, the blade of his sword cutting through Floki's jacket and into his belly.

Floki took out his dagger with his last strength and buried it deep in the Frankish soldier's throat.

Bjorn jumped forward. He had picked up a Frankish sword after he had lost his own. Stabbing it downward into a Frankish soldier's back, he saved Sansa, who was struggling to keep the Frank from strangling her.

"You alright?" he asked. Sansa merely nodded, panting heavily.

Lagertha had lost her shield by now, the wooden planks of it torn apart by Frankish swords. Her own sword was clashing constantly with other blades, the shieldmaiden trying to fight a way though the combatants.

Ragnar and Rollo were still hammering their fists onto each other's heads as the battle around them went on.

Torvi fired her crossbow, hitting a Frank in the back, killing him. She quickly reloaded and picked a new target.

Lagertha felt the impact of the blow that knocked her sword out of her hand. Changing to the throwing axe that hung from her belt, she quickly killed the Frank with a blow to the neck.

Seeing Ragnar struggle against Rollo, she decided to help him, but was suddenly surrounded by three Frankish soldiers. She caught the first sword with her axe, before another one punched her with a shield in the face. Stunned, she didn't see the Frankish soldier. The last thing she saw was the blade entering her shoulder.

Halfdan went down with a crossbow bolt in his shoulder, soon Harald was over him and tried to defend his brother.

Ragnar was stunned by the blows his brother had already delivered onto his head. Yet, they both kept punching at each other.

Torvi dropped her crossbow, when a bolt hit her in the leg, causing her to crumble to the ground.

A Frankish grappling hook hit Ragnar in the shoulder, tearing him away from his brother. Both fell to the deck, trying to regain their strength and Ragnar feverishly trying to lose the hook. Taking in the scenery, Lagertha being pulled out of the melee by Bjorn, Torvi limping and Sansa nowhere in sight, he made a decision.

"Get her on the boats!" he ordered Bjorn who was carrying his mother, "Cut the ropes! Get out of here!"

The Vikings retreated to the boat, where Bjorn was already cutting at the ropes. Ragnar grabbed an axe from the deck and prepared himself to stay and die.

Rollo had gotten back to his feet, advancing towards Ragnar, his sword raised high. Ragnar was waiting for him and Rollo stepped forward.

Suddenly, Ragnar was tackled to the ground by Sansa who had thrown herself upon him. Rollo's sword cut through the empty air, until it finally ended in Sansa's thigh. She screamed from the pain and began to drag her father towards the boat.

"Let me stay!" Ragnar urged her. Finally, they were both inside the boat and retreated from the Franks.

As the boat drifted backwards, the Franks began to shoot arrows and bolts at the fleeing Vikings.

"Enough!" Rollo ordered, "Let them go!"

* * *

The drawbridge was lowered under the loud sound of trumpets, before the rider entered Paris. Loud cheering accompanied him into the city. Finally Rollo dismounted from his horse and almost fell into the dirt. As one of his men moved to help him, he waved him off and maneuvered himself back onto his feet.

One foot in front of the other, he slowly walked up to the Emperor while the citizens of Paris celebrated his victory.

Finally, Gisela stood up from her chair and ran to him. For a moment, they both forgot the public occasion and their lips met for a long and passionate kiss.

"Father!" Gisela cried out, "I present to you the savior of Paris! The hero of Frankia!"

Rollo fell to his knees in front of the Emperor. Charles bowed down to him and ordered him to stand. He placed a thin golden ring on Rollo's head then clapped loudly.

"God … bless…Paris!" Rollo managed to say with his last strength.

* * *

The Vikings retreated along the Seine, ashamed and humiliated. They had failed miserably.

Halfdan was lying in Harald's boat, his eyes closed, the body shivering from the fever. Harald looked at him in dismay, then cursed the Christians.

Torvi's wound was only superficial and by now, she had begun to take care of Floki. The boatbuilder was still alive, yet the nasty wound on his belly would need a lot of time to heal.

Sansa was kneeling next to Lagertha, who was still unconscious. Bjorn was sitting next to her, helping his sister to treat his mother's wound. Sansa herself wore a thick bandage around her leg and while the wound had closed within the first two days, she still grimaced whenever she moved.

Ragnar was sitting in the prow of the boat, overlooking the casualties. He was crying and shivering. Ever since he had used the last of the medicine Yidu had given him, he felt more miserable than before.

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 _A/N: As you can see, I have cut before the timeline jump in the Vikings episode. I will fill the better part of the gap with my own story._

 _Next up, a chapter that will show a bit of both worlds..._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	47. Homeward bound

_A/N: I'm aware that it was a little more Vikings than GoT recently, and it was even mostly canonic to the series, so here is a chapter that features both series...  
_

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 **Chapter 47 Homeward bound**

Daenerys Targaryen was sitting in her chamber on the ship, looking desperately at a map. She was angry, she now had failed twice in her attempt to regain the Iron Throne.

It had not been a bad idea, sending Unsullied through the tunnels in a daring move to enter King's Landing. But it had not worked, and now many Unsullied were dead, Tyrion and Grey Worm were badly wounded from burning Wildfire.

And as if that had not been enough, Bolton and Lannister armies had attacked her army in the rear, causing a great slaughter among the Targaryen soldiers.

* * *

Sansa was sweating in her bed. The wound on her leg had become infected and she was now having a fever.

"What is happening to her?" Arya asked.

"Your mother is very sick", Bjorn told her, "She is already at the gates of Valhalla, but she does not quite want to enter yet."

It had been three days since they returned to Kattegat empty-handed, the fleet only a shadow of its former strength, the wounded and killed too many to count. Ragnar had taken off during the first night, no one had seen him ever since.

Harald and Halfdan had taken their men and returned to their own lands. After all, they still had to fight many other kings.

Bjorn's daughter had died. Aslaug was avoiding the topic as much as she could, but she had told him that Siggy had drowned in the small river running through the town. Bjorn had been devastated at her loss, but on the other hand, small children died all the time. It was all in the hands of the gods.

He turned back to Sansa and placed a wet rag on her forehead. This time, he had promised to take care of the children, and he was determined not to fail his sister as Aslaug had failed him.

* * *

"How are you?" Daenerys asked as she entered Tyrion's chamber aboard the ship. The Hand of the queen was lying in his bed, his head and upper body wrapped in bandages.

"I'm alive", Tyrion mumbled, "I am better than most of us, I suppose."

"Then get well soon", Daenerys encouraged him, "We have to begin planning to get revenge on your siblings."

"Your Grace", Tyrion said, as she was already at the door, "I have to tell you that the next time, we cannot fail again. If we do, we will not be able to ever regain enough strength to even challenge them."

* * *

Bjorn looked over to the bed, where Sansa moaned in her sleep. Finally, after two days, she opened her eyes again.

"Welcome back among the living", Bjorn joked as he sat down next to her.

"I feel as if I was run over by Sleipnir itself", Sansa groaned, "How long was I out?"

"About two days", Bjorn smiled.

"And what did I miss?" Sansa asked, before she drank a sip of water.

"Father is gone", Bjorn told her, "Harald and his brother have returned to their lands. And Siggy is dead."

"How did father die?" Sansa wanted to know.

"He didn't die", Bjorn corrected her, "He took off, no one has seen him since the night after you fell ill."

"And what happened to Siggy?" Sansa queried.

"I don't know", Bjorn admitted, "Aslaug told me she fell into the brook and drowned."

"I am so sorry, brother", Sansa told him.

* * *

The port of Mereen was busy. The ships had docked and now the surviving troops were marching ashore and back to their barracks. Almost everyone was wounded, many so severe that they would undoubtedly never stand on a battlefield again.

Daario Naharis had come out almost unscathed, although some of his hair had been singed by nearby wildfire. Theon Greyjoy was missing, after he had fought in the rearguard against the Bolton army.

Varys had come out unscathed, although he had almost been captured. Just in the last moment, the master of whisperers had been able to hide from the Bolton men-at-arms.

Tyrion and Grey Worm had been badly burned in the tunnels under the red keep, but if the gods allowed, they would both recover fully. The Queen herself had been able to escape unharmed, but Daenerys had fallen into a foul mood whenever anyone approached her.

* * *

Life was going on in Kattegat, although it was still strange not to see Ragnar anywhere. He had sometimes been almost omnipresent, often wandering around the town and appearing seemingly from nowhere. Now he had left, and more than once, Sansa caught herself thinking about how much he would laugh when he snuck up on her and scared her.

Sansa's wounds had healed, and her fever had subsided. She was still weak, limping wherever she walked, but she no longer spent her days in bed.

To Sansa, it was obvious that her brothers missed their father dearly. Bjorn probably the least, but the little ones were suffering from the separation.

"Come on, Ubba", Sansa smiled encouragingly at her brother, "I promised to teach you how to fight, did I not?"

"What does it matter?" her brother asked, "We can never again go raiding with father…"

"That is in the hands of the gods", Sansa told him sternly, "But you don't need our father around to be a warrior."

Ubba still looked as if he wanted to protest, but Sansa dragged him out to the beach by his arm.

"And by the way, I need to get back in shape as well", she laughed. They both took their shields and swords and circled each other.

"Are you sure you are ready?" Ubba asked in concern as he saw his sister limping. Sansa quickly stepped forward, bringing her sword down on him, only stopping the blade a finger's with from Ubba's skull. He had never even registered her move.

"A bit of advice, little brother", Sansa smiled, "Even a wounded fighter can still kill."

Ubba stood back and swung his sword around. Sansa ducked under the blade, before she punched her shield against her brother's. Ubba hacked at her head again, and Sansa parried effortlessly with her sword.

* * *

King's Landing was still full of the smell of the battle. Two weeks ago, the armies of the houses Bolton and Lannister had met the Targaryen army on the fields outside Kings landing. A mixture of smoke and ash, buzzing flies, charred remnants of wildfire and rotting human flesh mixed with the usual stench of the city's poorer quarters.

The royal couple, as everyone saw them, was standing at a window in the castle.

"We didn't find him", Ser Jaime Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West said. Next to him, his sister sighed.

"It would have been too easy", Cersei agreed, "Maybe he died in the tunnels. There have to be some bodies under the city as well."

"If there are any bodies left", Jamie told her, "Then they are already being carried towards the sea. We will not find him there."

"When are you going back to Casterly Rock?" Cersei changed the topic.

"I will leave the cleaning up of the bodies to Lord Bolton", Jamie explained, "He not only doesn't mind handling rotting bodies, I think he sometimes actually enjoys it."

* * *

"Ouch!" Arya yelled as she stuck her finger. She licked the blood of her fingertips and glared at her giggling sister.

"You should be more careful", Gyda smiled in mock pity at her twin sister. Both girls were getting lessons from their mother, about the useful skills in life, including sewing.

"I hate you!" Arya screamed as she threw a rag. Before it reached the other girl, Sansa had caught the rag with her hand. Furiously, she was standing in the middle of the room.

"Arya, Stop this!" Sansa yelled, "And Gyda, stop teasing your sister!"

"Yes, mother", both girls chorused.

"Arya, I know it is hard, but you have to keep trying", Sansa said, sitting down next to her.

"Why?" the little girl asked, "I want to be a shieldmaiden like you – not a seamstress."

"I know", Sansa smiled, "But even shieldmaidens have to know how to sew. What are you going to do when you've ripped your battle jacket on the raid and don't know how to repair it?"

Arya looked down. Her mother's feet seemed almost interesting.

"Besides", Sansa added, "What kind of Shieldmaiden cannot even stand a little stick with the needle?"

* * *

The dungeon under the Red Keep was dark. This place was usually called the _black cells_ , and for a good reason. Only those who were sentenced to die were put here, they would only ever see light on the day of their death again.

The man was lying in the dark, his hands shackled to his feet. He desperately tried to ignore the loud growling of his stomach. How long had it been since he had last eaten? Days? Weeks? There was no way to tell the time, no light, no visits from the guards, just the rats squeaking all over the cell. He could not see them, but he heard them, and felt them run over his immobilized body.

The man closed his eyes in pain, as someone entered the cell, carrying a bright torch. After this long time in absolute darkness, the light felt as if someone was stabbing his eyes out.

The man with the torch knelt down next to the prisoner. A happy smile showed on his face.

"Hello, my friend", the man said, "I knew you didn't mean to leave me. You are too loyal to me for that."

The prisoner shivered at the sound of the voice. He would have recognized the tone of this man's voice all over the world.

"Don't worry, I will not leave you behind", the man said, "I want you to come home with me. What do you say, Reek?"

The man who was once Theon Greyjoy looked at the other man's ace in shock and fear.

* * *

Fall was beginning in Kattegat. They had never even realized how long they actually were in Frankia, Sansa realized. The days quickly grew shorter, the winds colder, and the sky was now filled with thick, grey clouds all day.

"Why can't you teach us how to fight?" Gyda whined.

"You are too young", Sansa replied, for the 243rd time.

"But I'm a good fighter", her daughter disagreed, "I win against Sigurd all the time…"

"Your uncle is a little boy, just as you are a little girl", Sansa told her sternly, "You are too young to fight."

"Pleeeeaaase!" the girl insisted. Sansa sighed. Normally, she loved watching the girls grow older each day, but on some occasions, they just wore her out. Maybe it was time that they received a little lesson.

"Alright, go get your sister", Sansa finally agreed.

The two girls were following their mother down to the beach next to the port. Sansa had brought three wooden swords and two shields with her. She handed Gyda the shield and both of the girls one of the swords, before taking her own weapons up.

Gyda lifted the shield, for a moment struggling with the weight, then the little girl moved forward. She swung her sword around, but Sansa blocked with her own shield. Sansa stabbed her wooden sword at her daughter's face and struck her on the cheek.

Gyda fell on her back, silent tears glistening in her eyes. Sansa looked down at her. She felt her heart sink as she thought about the pain she had caused her little girl, but if they wanted to learn how to fight, this was not the time to show mercy.

"Arya, take up the shield and attack me", Sansa urged. Arya stepped forward, and picked the heavy shield from her sister's fingers. Carefully, she staggered forward, and Sansa's blade was stopped by the shield. Sansa punched her shield down, hitting Arya's thigh. With a loud cry, the girl fell to the ground.

"First lesson", Sansa said as she knelt down next to the girls, "Before you fight, make sure you are skilled enough."

Both girls had stopped sobbing, looking at their mother with reddened eyes.

"Second, get used to being hit", Sansa told them, although she wanted to hug them tightly, "In battle, you are always being hit. Any of what you just received were light blows, by comparison. And sword and axes hurt even more. Ignore the pain and fight on."

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 _A/N: So, I hope you like where this is going. From now on, I will diverge from the canonic Vikings universe that has been predominant._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	48. No one is going to kill you

_A/N: Sorry for the week delay, I just realized too late that I had never uploaded the new chapter, nor had I proofread it...  
_

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 **48 No one is going to kill you...**

Winter had been uneventful in Kattegat. Sansa had finally regained her strength and Ragnar was still missing. The children were all growing and Aslaug had taken over Kattegat as a ruler.

Now the first glimpse of spring had begun. It was still cold and the roads were thickly covered in snow, but it had begun to melt for the first time only a few days earlier.

The traders began to return after they had been absent during the winter. Now that the ice was breaking, ships were able to enter the fjord again. They came from all over. Some had come from the Kingdom south of Frankia, where the Moors were ruling. Others had stopped in England, Frankia or Frisia before. A group of Swedish traders had been sailing along the Russian lands all the way to the Eastern Lands.

The range of products was as big as the range of the origins of the traders. Slaves from Frankia, fur from Sweden, steel from Syria, ore from England and so forth.

Despite all the diversity, all heads turned when another large ship entered the harbor. It was painted purple on the hull and its holds were filled with all kinds of exotic goods.

The captain walked over the plank to the pier, where he was greeted by an emissary of Queen Aslaug.

"Good day to you", the warrior said, "May I ask who you are and where you come from?"

"We are from the city of Bravos", the captain smiled, "We have a wide range of goods, and we were told this would be a good place to trade."

"Then you are welcome", the warrior said, "I am sure you are aware that you will have to pay a fee to the ruler of this city, Queen Aslaug."

"Of course", the captain smiled, "A man will pay any reasonable prize."

* * *

Sansa was sitting in Bjorn's room, where she was staring at the map.

"Think of it", he urged, "Never before have Northmen reached the Mediterranean Sea. We could be the first…"

"I don't know", Sansa admitted carefully, "Are you sure it exists? Can we really reach it?"

"I've talked with Floki during the winter", Bjorn informed her, "He says he will try and build boats that are strong enough for such a journey."

"Alright, I will think about it", Sansa smiled.

* * *

Sansa's twin daughters had begun to train to fight more regularly, making their own experiences. Their favorite opponent was their uncle Sigurd. Endless hours, they were beating at each other with wooden swords and axes. In between, they cherished every lesson from their mother, no matter how painful it was for them.

Sticks crashed against each other, and occasional grunts and screams of pain were sounding over Kattegat's main square. Gyda, Arya, Sigurd and a number of boys and girls from the town were fighting a battle of their own. All of them were children, none of them old enough to even consider joining the raids yet, but every single one was already dreaming of the time when they would be old enough. What adventures they would experience, what heroic deeds they would accomplish to be sung of for years!

Sansa watched them with a smile, just as did many more mothers and fathers all around the square. They were all proud of their children and hoped for their fame.

Sansa looked away from the fighting children, when she felt someone watch her. Carefully, she focused on the spectators, but no one stared at her openly. Finally her eyes landed on a young woman who was obviously not from around here. Sansa was sure she had seen her with one of the traders in the past days.

While she felt slightly uneasy, Sansa ignored it. There was nothing wrong with the woman looking at her. After all, she was probably an unusual sight for many of the traders. There were not many countries where women normally were considered warriors, and with the scars and tattoos on her face, neck, arms and torso, Sansa probably just intimidated her. She smiled silently to herself.

* * *

The sun was already setting when the woman returned to the ship. She was awaited by the captain.

"A girl is back", the captain said, "A man is curious – what did a girl see?"

"A girl is too old to be a girl anymore", the woman replied, "A man should now that by now."

"Where has a girl been then?" the man asked.

"A girl has been to the main square, just through the houses next to the market place", she explained, "A girl has seen the children fight and has visited the great hall and the tavern."

"And the person with the promised name?" the man wanted to know, "Has a girl seen the one who has been promised to the many-faced god?"

"A girl has seen her."

* * *

Sansa was groaning inwardly as she looked in her daughters' eyes. Both girls were smiling happily, although their faces were now covered in bruises and small cuts. Arya had a black eye and a split lip, Gyda had a bad nosebleed from a punch that had hit her. Nevertheless, both girls were grinning broadly.

"Have you seen, mother?" Gyda asked, "We tore them to pieces!"

"We won!" Arya exclaimed. Sansa smiled at them, but sighed at the same time. Weren't parents not supposed to keep their children from any harm? Then why did it feel alright to have two little girls participate in such a fight?

Breaking off the thought, Sansa knelt down in front of them. She took a rag in her hand and wetted it with hot water. Carefully, she washed the dried blood and mud from the twin's faces.

* * *

The girl from the Bravosi trade ship was wearing a different mask this morning. She had also changed in more typical clothes for this region. With Kattegat's recent growth, the town now easily consisted of a thousand people, there was little chance that she would be recognized as the trader.

Of course she was not a trader. She was here to kill someone, but first she had to study her victim's every movement. Once she would know everything possible about her, she would strike.

The death of the other woman must be very important to someone, so much she knew. After all, she had made the negotiations with the contractor herself. The other woman insisted that the faceless men were sending two of them on the mission, and this was the only reason, why the ship's captain had been replaced with one.

Of course, she had enough experience to complete the mission on her own, after all she began to work for the many-faced god more than ten years ago. And even before that, she had learned to kill. She did not need supervision, nor backup. She would not fail – she never did.

The girl walked through the streets, approaching the great hall. The closer she came to the center of the town, the more crowded the streets became. Then she saw her target.

The person she was watching was a tall woman. She was sitting on the deck next to the great hall, looking over the main square while talking to a man next to her. A husband? Lover? Friend or brother? Something that had to be known.

The woman itself was beautiful, although a large scar was covering the side of her head and cheek. One of her ears was mostly missing, as if it had been cut off. Her neck and temples had been tattooed and a little hint of tattoos could be seen on her bare forearms as well. The hair on her temples had been braided, and the braids intertwined with the tattoos. The rest of her long, reddish hair was falling down over her fur-covered cloak and the wind kept picking some strands up.

* * *

Sansa was sitting next to the great hall, with Bjorn next to her. He was resenting Aslaug for taking control of the town and the lands. _Why do I have to keep him in line_ , Sansa thought, _I am not his mother._

But that was exactly the problem, so much she realized. Bjorn had been afraid that Ragnar would chose his younger sons over him, and it was only natural that Aslaug chose her sons over him.

"Brother, you don't need to be angry with her", she smiled, "After all, she ruled when we were away with father. What do you expect her to do?"

"I don't know", Bjorn admitted, "But she let Siggy die, and she is delaying every attempt at planning the raid to the Mediterranean Sea…"

"So, are you angry at her for your daughter's death?" Sansa inquired, "You know that children die all the times. It is not like she killed her personally, it was just an accident. Could you have done better had you been here?"

"I don't know", Bjorn sighed.

"And honestly, do you think you are ready for the Mediterranean?" Sansa asked, "Because I still have my doubts."

Both of them never even looked up, when a young woman walked past them.

* * *

"What has a girl learned today?" the tradeship's captain asked.

"A girl has followed the person with the promised name", the woman answered.

"And is a girl ready to give her to the many-faced god?" the man smiled.

"A girl is ready", she replied, "Tonight, a girl will sleep in the great hall. A girl will bring her a knife to eat."

"Very well", the man asked, "Has a girl given any thought about alternative approaches? What about poisoning?"

"A girl has thought of it", she explained, "It would be not difficult to poison the meal, but since they share everything around here, there would be many names that have not yet been promised. A girl will try a knife first."

"And who is a girl?" the man asked.

"A girl is no one."

* * *

Sansa watched as Arya and Gyda chased each other around the great hall. Both girls were laughing loudly, their hair and skirts flying.

"Got you!" Arya exclaimed. Gyda now began chasing her sister around the hall.

"Children!" Sansa called out, "Time for bed!"

"But we aren't tired yet", the girls protested.

"You had enough activity today", Sansa disagreed, "Come on, I'll tell you a story."

Mumbling to themselves, the twin girls got ready for bed. Finally they were both settled in their beds and Sansa sat next to them.

"What story are you going to tell us?" Gyda asked.

"Do you know what the worst thing was that the god Loki ever did?" Sansa began. Both girls shook their heads.

"You know of Baldr, Odin's most loved son", Sansa reminded them, "The other gods wanted to keep him safe under any circumstances. So they made everyone and everything swear an oath that he could not be hurt. They tested the oaths, slashing at him with swords and stabbing him with spears. They threw stones at him and tried to drown him."

"But nothing could hurt him?" Arya continued hopefully.

"He had not so much as a scratch on him", Sansa agreed, "Not even Mjolnir could break his bones, nor could Odin's own spear break his skin. The gods were very happy."

"And what happened then?" Gyda wanted to know.

"The sly god was the only one who was not happy", Sansa told them, "He was sickened by the thought that Baldr was immune to all kinds of injuries or pain. So he thought day and night, on how he could hurt him."

"One day, the gods had a feast", Sansa continued, "They invited everyone. The other gods, even Hel. The Jotuns were invited, the monsters like Jormungand and Fenrir. Everyone came. The only one who was not invited was the god Loki. So he decided to avenge himself on them."

"What did he do?" Arya asked.

"You know what a Mistletoe is?" Sansa inquired. Both girls nodded.

"Loki had discovered that the mistletoe had not sworn an oath not to harm Baldr", Sansa explained, "They had made the tree swear, but the other gods had overlooked the small mistletoe. So he got himself a piece of it and brought it to the feast. When he arrived there, everyone was already drunk. Some had begun fighting, others were singing loudly under the tables. He noticed that Baldr had gotten into a fight with his brother Hod, the blind god."

"But Hod could not hurt Baldr", Gyda interrupted.

"Yes, and he probably did not want to", Sansa agreed, "But Loki put the mistletoe in his hand, and Hod threw it at his brother without ever seeing what it was. And Baldr was mortally wounded by that."

* * *

In the middle of the night, the woman was standing in front of one of the rooms in the great hall. She looked around, making certain that everyone else was asleep.

Carefully she pulled out the knife from her pocket. She took a deep breath and calmed her senses. She was ready to fulfill a promise to the many-faced god. She would not fail.

 _Valar Morgulis._

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 _A/N: I know that this is probably the meanest cliffhanger in the entire story... How do you think it will play out? And who is after Sansa's life?_

 _I hope you like it and don't forget to review!_


	49. Revenge of the lion

_A/N: A little interlude to the events in Kattegat. Just to keep track of what is happening in the rest of the world...  
_

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 **49 Revenge of the lion**

The queen was standing on the window of her solar, overlooking the great city underneath her. The stinking smell of the poorer parts of the city barely made it up this far, and her eyes were able to see far out over the stretch of blackwater bay.

Cersei Lannister was content. She had finally achieved all of her goals, secret and well-known ones.

Her grip on the seven Kingdoms was firmer than ever before. After defeating the Targaryen army twice, there was no one who had the strength and the determination to challenge her rule.

What was more, by now she had taken care of her son's murderers as well. Her brother Tyrion had likely died during the assault on the city of King's Landing, although his body had never been found. And she had paid the faceless men to find and kill his wife, Sansa Stark.

* * *

The Hand of the Queen was standing at the pier, overlooking the ship he had just left. Finally, his journey to Frankia had brought Petyr Baelish back to this city. He smiled to himself. It would seem, he had a talent for avoiding to be in the city when it was besieged. Not that he would want to, after all being killed was so brutal, boring and just not his style.

His mission in Frankia had been successful. He had wanted to gather information about the infamous northmen, from the best source available.

The northmen were a curse, so much he was sure. They had already crossed his plans before. He had hidden the most valuable person of the whole seven Kingdoms in a monastery in England, ready to use her for his own advantage and ultimate goal, the iron throne. But then they had raided the monastery, and Sansa Stark had vanished from the face of the earth. And in consequence, he had to contend himself with the second place in the kingdom, and that one only because the queen's twin brother had declined.

"Get out of the way!" someone yelled behind him. Littlefinger turned around and saw one of the laborers in the harbor, struggling along the pier with his heavy load. Apparently, the man thought he was standing in his way.

Littlefinger glared at him angrily. The man's eyes wandered down on his doublet, seeing the mockingbird-brooch and the pin with the hand.

"So sorry, milord", the man apologized. Littlefinger stepped aside and began his ascent on the hill towards the red keep.

* * *

It had been a week, since the Hand of the Queen had returned to the city. Now it was time for one of the very rare occasions when the Queen would leave the castle.

The steps of the seven knights in their armor and white cloaks almost made the street through fleabottom shudder. Each of them was fully armored, the visors on their helmets carefully closed.

Up front were a group of five knights. They were keeping a lookout in every direction, their hands ready at the hilts of their swords. It was necessary this way. Queen Cersei was about as popular in the city as her oldest son, the cruel Joffrey. And although the people they encountered knelt obediently at the side of the road, neither Cersei nor the knights surrounding her were oblivious of the hateful glances.

Next to the queen, the lord commander of the King's guard walked. Ser Jaime Lannister, the Queen's twin brother. The knight of the golden hand, as they called him sometimes, for the golden hand he was wearing where he had lost his sword hand many years ago.

Finally, the biggest knight brought up the rear. He was so tall, that he towered over everyone. Ser Gregor Clegane, mockingly nicknamed _"the silent knight"_. He was the Queen's most reliable guard, being immune to nearly every wound ever since Maester Qyburn had kept him alive by bloodmagic.

The group marched through the city, the queen being carried in her litter. The common people stepped quickly aside, no one wanted to get in the way of the queen.

Slowly, they made their way through the city, until they reached the place where once the great sept of Baelor stood. It had been reduced to ruins when Cersei had lit it with wildfire, burning all of her enemies and rivals inside.

The list of victims was long. Most prominently, Queen Margaery Tyrell and her brother Loras had been killed. Their father, Mace Tyrell, and Cersei's own uncle, Kevan Lannister, acting Hand of the King had died. The high sparrow, the spiritual leader, and most of his followers had been burned, including Ser Kevan's son, Lancel Lannister, one of the most indoctrinated religious fanatics Cersei had ever seen. That he had been her lover once and had denounced their affair to the high sparrow only made his death more satisfying.

Cersei mourned for only one of the dead of this day. Her son Tommen, her last child, Margaery's husband. He had killed himself by jumping from his room in the red keep, after he had learned of his mother's actions.

All that was more than ten years in the past. The great sept had not been reconstructed, instead there was still an open place in the middle of the houses. Most surprisingly, it was almost empty. Even the poorest citizens of King's Landing kept avoiding the place, a constant reminder of their Queen's brutality and capabilities.

Cersei got out and walked up to the middle of the place, where her son Joffrey's tomb would have been. There she knelt down, the knights of the King's guard surrounding her in a respectful distance.

"Joffrey, my little boy", Cersei began to pray, "How long have you been gone! And only now I can finally say, I did you justice. The people who murdered you are dead, or should soon be dead in any case."

* * *

Across the narrow sea, in the biggest city of dragon's bay, two persons met in secrecy in the narrow corridors of the great pyramid.

"You wanted to talk to me?" one of them said.

"Indeed, Lord Varys", Yara Greyjoy replied, "I was wondering if you had news from Westeros."

"I always know most of what is happening in the seven Kingdoms", Varys replied with a smile, "But I am going to tell most at the meeting of our Queen's small council anyway – Why ask for this private meeting?"

"Because I don't care about most of the news", Yara spat, "I am only interested in a particular fact."

"And what would that particular fact be?" Varys mused, "That is, if you don't mind me asking…"

"I was wondering if my brother was still alive", Yara told him, "I know that he was likely killed when he stayed behind. Yet, sometimes I cannot shake this feeling that he may still be suffering."

"I have no report of his fate, I am afraid, my dear", Varys replied, "As you said, chances are he was killed when he fought in the rearguard."

"I had just hoped…" Yara sighed.

"I know. But remember, no one reported of his killing either", Varys tried to console her, "He was a notable member of this court. Maybe they did not realize they killed him, or maybe they did not kill him at all and he escaped. All things are possible."

* * *

Lord Petyr Baelish was sitting proudly on the iron throne, as was his privilege as Hand of the Queen, while her grace was not present. He had to smile slightly when he thought about the myth of the thousand swords, forged by Aegon the conqueror into this uncomfortable chair. He had counted the blades himself. They did not even number two-hundred, let alone a thousand. The myths on which the realm is built.

The spectacle in front of him made him suppress a yawn. All morning, there had been audiences for common people. Some came to report a crime instead of going through the proper channels and informing the members of the city watch. Others had been referred to higher authorities to solve their squabbles.

"Milord, she has been seen hiding a dragon banner!" an old woman accused another one. Both women had to be kept apart by two members of the gold-cloaks, whose faces were hidden behind their visors, but nevertheless looked uncomfortably in their spot.

"Old whore!" the other woman screeched, "I have a dragon banner, because my husband captured it on the battlefield! Yours never made it out of the tavern."

"That is an awful lie!" the first woman raged.

"SILENCE!" Littlefinger finally bellowed. Immediately, both of them looked up.

"Do you know that it is a crime to own anything with the Targaryen sigil on it?" he finally asked.

"I knew it!" the accusing woman rejoiced.

"No, milord", the accused woman stammered, "I was not entirely sure. Please, milord, all I wanted to do was to let my grandchildren one day know that their ancestors were heroes…"

"So you don't favor the house Targaryen?" Littlefinger repeated.

"No, milord", the woman stammered, "I favor the house Lannister. My husband fought against the dragons during the last battle. My brother was killed during the siege of King's Landing against the forces of the traitor Stannis Baratheon. My father fought valiantly at the trident and was commended by King Robert for his bravery against the troops of Rhaegar Targaryen…"

"I see", Littlefinger sighed, "I suppose, the crown owes your family quite a bit. You may keep your flag. But keep it where it cannot be seen."

* * *

In the meantime, Cersei had for once left most of her guards behind. Not even Jamie could come with her. Especially not Jamie. Only Ser Gregor Clegane accompanied his queen.

She had dressed in a plain cloak with a hood. No one was supposed to recognize her on her way, and furthermore, she knew it would be rather dirty where she went.

Carefully she opened the door and walked into the rooms where the pyromancer's guild lived and worked.

"Your Grace", the senior pyromancer greeted her, "We have already awaited your coming."

"Then you know why I am here?" Cersei asked, "I need to know how much is still left after the last battle."

"The substance did make a difference on the battlefield, I hope?" the pyromancer asked.

"Yes, it did", Cersei answered, "How much of it is left?"

"We have 121 cases left, your grace", the pyromancer replied after a look in his book, "Do you wish us to restock it?"

"Indeed", Cersei told him, "I would like to have, say a thousand cases?"

"Very well, your grace", the pyromancer bowed.

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 _A/N: Next up, we return to Kattegat to see how the attempt at Sansa's life turns out._

 _I hope you liked it and don't forget to review!_


	50. Song of a Knife

_A/N: As promised, here is how Sansa's assasination turns out...  
_

 _Happy Easter to all of you!_

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 **50 Song of a Knife  
**

The young woman was standing next to the bed, where the other woman was sleeping. She had her hand raised high, the knife ready to punch down into the victim's throat.

"Are you going to kill me?" the woman in the bed asked without opening her eyes, "Many have tried before."

The younger woman was startled for a moment. This was _not_ part of the plan.

"They were not me", the servant to the many-faced god answered.

"Who are you then?" Sansa asked, finally opening her eyes.

"I am no one", the younger woman replied.

Sansa glared up at her attacker. The knife was still right on her throat. It was obvious that the assassin, whoever she was, hesitated to actually go through with it.

"Is this the first time you try to kill someone?" Sansa asked.

"No, I've killed many in my live", the assassin replied hesitantly, "But they never tried to talk me out of it."

"What makes you think I am trying to talk you out of it?" Sansa smiled, sitting up in her bed, "I'm not too afraid of death. I am just interested in the woman who wants to kill me."

"Why are you not afraid to die?" the young woman whispered, "Doesn't everyone fear death?"

"In this country, death may bring honor to a person", Sansa tried to explain, "If you die gloriously in battle, you are permitted in the halls of the gods."

"You are not in a battle", the young woman pointed out.

"Not yet", Sansa grinned, "What makes you think, I would not at least try and take you with me? Either way, I've already had my head placed on an executioner's block, I've been fighting in battles for the better part of a decade – I am not afraid of death, only of pain. And I have few things to regret."

"Don't worry", the assassin smiled, "It will be over before you know it. I don't care to torture you, but I have to kill you."

"I recall someone telling me that killing is the sweetest feeling of all", Sansa agreed, "I never knew what he was talking about until I learned to do it myself."

Someone knocked on the door. Both looked startled towards the door.

"Who is it?" Sansa asked, trying to sound sleepy.

"Mother, I had a bad dream", the little girl outside the room explained.

"Make her go away", the assassin whispered, "I hate to go after unnecessary witnesses. Especially children."

The young woman crawled under Sansa's bed, her knife still ready to kill, should anyone notice her presence. Sansa took a short moment to gather herself, then she opened the door.

"Come here, Arya", Sansa said to her daughter. The girl stepped forward and let herself embrace tightly by her mother.

"What did you dream?" Sansa wanted to know.

"I dreamt that a monster was chasing me", Arya explained, "A big dragon."

"And what happened?" Sansa asked.

"I hid in a small cave, and it couldn't get me", Arya continued, "I was so afraid."

"You don't need to be afraid of the dragon", Sansa smiled at her daughter, "I will always watch over you, Arya. I love you."

"I love you too, mother", the girl grinned.

"Now, back to bed", Sansa urged her to leave the room.

Under the bed, the young woman had shuddered when she had heard the name she had almost forgotten. The name that had once been hers, before she became no one.

It was a hell of a coincidence, she thought. The name is probably spread much more than I ever knew. Whatever happened this night, she already felt such a connection with this woman she was ordered to kill. A total stranger, yet she seemed so familiar. She could not go through with it. Not tonight.

As soon as the girl had closed the door, she slipped out from under the bed. Her victim was still sitting there, staring at the space where her daughter had been only moments ago. The assassin moved on silent feet and jumped upwards, reaching the construction of the roof. Carefully, she climbed, until she had passed the separation between the room and the main room of the great hall.

"A girl has not done it", the man said.

"A girl did not get close enough", the young woman replied, "A girl will try again."

The man eyed her for a moment, then nodded.

"A girl must not fail", he reminded her, "It would displease the many-faced god."

* * *

The young woman that was no one was wandering through the town of Kattegat. Unsure what to do about all this, she walked around without purpose. Her trained senses noticed every detail.

The woman's eyes followed a little girl, running around in the streets adjacent to the market place.

Finally, she made a choice. The young woman pulled a piece of parchment and a bit of charcoal from her pocket. She wrote a short note on it and approached the little girl.

"Your name is Arya, isn't it?" she asked.

"No, I'm Gyda", the girl replied, "Arya is my twin sister."

"Can you give this to your mother?" the assassin asked, handing the note to the girl.

The girl nodded eagerly and scurried off to find her mother.

Sansa was working on the loom. Carefully, she had placed all threads, now she was weaving them together. She looked up when Gyda came running up to her.

"Gyda, child, what is it?" she asked, while her daughter was breathing heavily. Without answering, she handed her mother the note. Sansa eyed it carefully, surprised to see the Westerosi script on it.

 _Come to the edge of the forest at noon. Alone._

"Who gave you this?" Sansa asked the girl.

"Some woman", Gyda shrugged, "She said it was important that I give it to you."

Sansa was puzzled by the note. For one, she had a pretty good idea that she was about to be assassinated, if she went. On the other hand, the note had been written in the Westerosi form of English, instead of the runes that were common in Denmark.

Sansa sat down for a moment, wondering if she should go to the meeting, not knowing what was awaiting her. She would likely die there, so much she knew. But she still had no idea why anyone would send someone to murder her in her sleep. Going to the suggested meeting might shed some light on that particular question.

* * *

Sansa gripped the hilt of her sword nervously. It was still in its sheath, but nevertheless she held on to it, ready to draw her weapon at a moment's notice. Carefully, she took another step forward on the moss growing on the edge of the woods. Her eyes scanned her surroundings, watching for any sign of an attacker.

Sansa whirled around, when she heard a twig break behind her. Drawing her sword, she stood ready to face whoever was coming for her.

With her heart pounding in her chest, Sansa stood alone among the trees. She had drawn her sword, but there was no point in raising it until she saw someone. It would only tire her arm.

"You've come", a voice behind a tree said. A woman's voice, Sansa registered. A moment later, the assassin stepped out in the open. She was pretty, Sansa registered, only her hair was too short to be from around here. Sansa realized, that she must have come with the trade ships.

"I told you, I don't fear death", Sansa replied bravely, "At least not the most."

"Very brave", the other woman commented, "Then you are willing to die?"

"I will take you with me", Sansa denied, "But you may tell me who you are first."

"And who are you exactly?" the younger woman smiled.

"My name is Sansa, I am the daughter of king Ragnar", Sansa replied, "Who sent you to kill me?"

"Some woman who was willing to pay for the service of the faceless men", the assassin shrugged, "Is that a common name around here?"

"No, in fact I believe I am the only one here who is named Sansa", Sansa replied cautiously, "Why do you ask?"

"I've noticed that your daughter had a name of Westeorsi origin, as have you", the young woman mused, "I was wondering how common this is around here."

"To tell the truth, I was born in Westerors", Sansa explained, while she sat down on a moss-covered stone, "I fled from the war and came here."

"And your father became king here?" the other woman wanted to know.

"No, my natural father was killed in the war for treason", Sansa blurted out, "I was adopted by the lord of this land here, and later he became king."

"Who was your father?" the assassin inquired.

"My father was …Lord Eddard …Stark …of Winterfell", Sansa managed to say, and a tear ran down her cheek, "I remember the big castle… although it is a very faint shadow by now…"

"I know", the young woman agreed with a hoarse voice, "Before it burned down, it was a beautiful place."

"Have you been there?" Sansa asked, her mind still clouded from the memories.

"I grew up there", the other woman agreed, "Sansa, I think, I might be your sister."

Sansa felt as if she had just been slapped in the face out of nowhere. She stared at the other woman with her mouth wide open. A couple of times she opened and closed it, trying to find something to say, but she was lost for words.

The younger woman reached up on her face and pulled down some sort of mask she had been wearing. It had made her look like someone else entirely.

"Arya?" Sansa finally managed to say, "Arya Stark?"

"That was my name once", the other one agreed. With tears streaming from their eyes, both sisters embraced tightly.

Finally, they let go of each other. They both sat down on the grass, side by side.

"So, how come you are here to kill me?" Sansa finally asked.

"Someone paid for your death", Arya shrugged, "I am part of a guild of assassins – that is all that is to it. How come you are walking around with a sword?"

"Some years ago, when I came here, there was this family who took me in and basically adopted me", Sansa explained, "And when we were attacked, I decided that I did not want to be the last surviving member of this family. Not again."

An awkward silence befell them for a moment. Finally, Sansa turned to her sister.

"What is going to happen now?" she asked.

"I don't know", Arya admitted.

"Are you going to stay?" Sansa wanted to know. Arya thought about it for a moment.

"No", she finally answered, "I can't, no matter how much I want to get to know my reborn sister."

"Why not?" Sansa inquired, "I want to hear of your adventures as well."

"I would love to", Arya sighed, "But we have a strict rule: We never kill anyone who is not our target, and we never ever let a target escape. If I don't kill you, there will be others."

"So what are we going to make of this?" Sansa asked.

"I am going to kill you", Arya smiled broadly. Seemingly out of nowhere, she had a small knife in her hand and drove it into Sansa's left side. Her older sister gasped in shock, then grunted from the pain, before she fell over.

Arya pulled the blade out of her sister's flesh and bent down.

"Valar Morgulis", she whispered.

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 _A/N: So, I hope I didn't disappoint in having the two sisters meet. And I'm sure none of you guys expected this ending..._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	51. The rains weep o'er the hall

_A/N: Well, that were some pretty strong reactions to my last chapter. Since my intention was to give you a little scare, I guess I succeeded. But of course the story is far from over yet...  
_

 _To those of you you can't remeber why the title of this chapter seems so familiar, it's a line from the Lannister's song **"The Rains of Castamere"**._

 _ **Thank you** to everyone who reviewed, even if I removed some of the guest reviews..._

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 **51 The rains weep o'er the hall**

The foreign trade ship left the fjord near Kattegat. Finally, the last member of the crew had returned aboard.

"Has a girl done what she came for?" Jaqu'en Hag'ar had asked when she had returned to the ship.

"A girl has done", Arya replied. Her companion had only nodded and given the order to pack up and prepare to leave.

* * *

The pyramid of Mereen rose high over the city's poorer quarters. Although slavery had been abolished in the city for several years by then, there was still a distinctive separation between the houses of the former masters and the former slaves.

"Your Grace", Tyrion Lannister said as he stepped next to his queen on the terrace, "There are rumors of an outbreak of a plague in the former slave quarters."

"I see", Daenerys Targaryen replied, "What can we do about it?"

"Preciously little, I am afraid", Tyrion told her, "We have already began work on the new channels and drainage system, but it will take time to improve the conditions. And we are spending every spare coin in preparation for the next war."

"What good does preparing for war, if I cannot even help the population of a single city?" Dany asked, "My city?"

Tyrion looked at the ground.

"Forgive me, Your Grace", he said, "You are right. But if we stop building our army, we will never be strong enough to make another attempt at taking the seven kingdoms."

"I don't want to give up my dream", Dany clarified, "But I cannot let the people of this city suffer if I have the means to stop it. Whatever it takes, do it."

* * *

The morning sun was rising over King's Landing, making the red keep show its color in perfection. In the royal chambers, Ser Jaime Lannister lifted his arm from his sister's body.

"It is morning, Cersei", he whispered in her ear, before he pressed a kiss on her cheek. Grudgingly, both of them scrambled out of their bed.

They were mostly silent, while eating their breakfast. Finally, Jaime took the word again.

"Have you ever thought about marrying again?" he asked.

"No, why should I?" Cersei shrugged.

"None of us is going to live forever", Jaime pointed out, "Who is going to inherit the kingdom when you die?"

Cersei looked at him. She had to admit that he did have a valid point.

"I don't know", she finally replied, "But I believe I am getting to old to have children in any case."

"And I don't need a husband", she pointed out, "I have you…"

"You know I would marry you", Jaime smiled at her, "If only it was not still against the law."

"I am not going to get married again", Cersei told him firmly, "Not even to you, my beloved brother."

* * *

The streets of Mereen were getting less crowded with every day. The bodies of the victims to the plague were lying in the entrances to the houses, and whoever still had enough strength to move stayed inside.

One of the taverns was still full nevertheless. A group of freed slaves, dothtraki riders and sellswords was sitting together.

"I actually believed life would get better with her", one of the freed slaves said, "When she took of our chains, we were the happiest people in the world. And now…"

"Now your sons died in a war for a foreign country, and you are working harder than ever to provide for food", the sellsword continued, "What a change."

"She took my son with her as well", one of the dothraki pointed out, "He never should have crossed the poisoned water."

"And now there is this sickness all over the town", the sellsword complained.

"I bet they are not sick up there in the pyramid", the slave pointed out, "Maybe the ones who said that Mhysa was a master at heart were right after all."

* * *

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The land around Kattegat was clouded by rain. Not a storm, just constant, never ending rain. The water poured from the roofs of the houses and formed small rivers in the middle of the muddy roads.

Out in the woods, the rain soaked a lifeless body. The woman was lying on the grass underneath a tree, her skin pale from the loss of blood, the grass underneath her as red as her hair.

Raindrops were falling off a branch and landed right on her face. The woman opened her eyes startled and gave a cry of pain, as she moved.

"Am I actually still alive?" Sansa wondered. She looked down at her belly, where her sister's blade had bitten deep into her flesh. To her own surprise, the wound had somehow stopped bleeding, and a thick crust of blood was now showing.

She grunted as she tried to move, the tension in her muscles pulling on the wound. Exhausted, she fell back in the grass and closed her eyes for a moment, trying to shut out the flaming pain.

* * *

The small council was sitting idly in their chamber. The councilmembers were chatting idly, but the queen had not yet arrived.

"We should get started, I think", Littlefinger finally sighed, "It seems, her grace has decided not to join us today."

All around, the councilmembers agreed hesitantly.

"First topic", Littlefinger began, "The commander of the city watch has informed me that there has been a significant increase in robbery over the past weeks."

"What are we to do about it?" the master of coin wanted to know.

"I will authorize the city watch to increase their strength with another fifty watchmen", Littlefinger decided, "Am I right that we can afford this?"

"I think so", the master of coin stammered, already calculating the costs.

"Next, Grand Maester Qyburn", Littlefinger turned to the master of whisperers.

"I have good news for a change, I believe", the Grand Maester replied, "We have reports from Mereen. Apparently, a plague has befallen the city and their resentment of the Targaryen Queen is slowly growing."

"Very well", Littlefinger smiled, "So there is little chance that they will end up here again anytime soon?"

"It will take them a long time to raise another army", Qyburn explained, "I don't expect them to invade Westeros anytime soon."

* * *

A group of spectators had gathered around the speaker. A freed slave, he had chosen to get his collar to make the desired impression.

"Many of you surely remember how Mhysa came to us, how she freed us of our chains", he began, "But has our live been any better ever since? Most of us have lost sons and brothers, fathers and uncles in the mad war she is waging. And it is not for us!"

The crowd cheered lightly.

"We don't need her to be Queen of a country far away!" he continued, "We need our children to be alive. We need to be fed and protected."

Shouts of agreement could be heard.

"Do you know why she does not do all this for us?" he asked, "Because she doesn't care about us. Mhysa is a master, no matter how much she pretends not to be one!"

Thundering applause filled the square.

* * *

Still grunting with every step, Sansa dragged herself through the raining weather until she finally reached the great hall. She broke down just as she had pushed open the doors.

"Sansa, what happened?" Aslaug asked as she knelt next to her adoptive daughter.

"It is alright", Sansa smiled, "I am alive."

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 _A/N: To be honest, I don't think I could kill Sansa... I just like her._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	52. Blood of a Queen

_A/N: Basically a filler chapter, to bridge the time Sansa needs to heal..._

 ** _Thank_ _you_** _to everyone who left a review!_

 _Miss Morningstar: I have decided to not include most of the charcters you've mentioned, simply because I don't think I could concentrate on my storyline with all the additional characters. Varys is there however..._

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 **Chapter 52 Blood of a Queen**

The next day, Sansa lay in her bed grunting with every little movement she made. Aslaug had applied a bandage to the deep wound, and Floki and Helga had helped cleaning the wound with a glowing hot knife and applied a paste of herbs.

Sansa was aware how lucky she had been. From her own experience, this was a nasty wound, and it was usually beyond healing. But she had not bled to death as she had expected, and she suspected that Arya had done this on purpose. Surely, if she had wanted her dead, she would not have failed, and now she could at least show the reddened blade to whoever her client was.

Days went by, and each day, her bandages were changed, and slowly the wound first closed then began to heal. Sansa grew more restless with each passing day, annoyed by the fact that she could only lay still in her bed.

* * *

In the meantime, Bjorn was visiting Floki at his shipyard.

"Hello Bjorn", the boatbuilder greeted him, "What brings you here on this rainy day?"

"I need to show you something", Bjorn smiled. Floki waved at his friend, and Bjorn followed him into the house. Smiling broadly, Bjorn produced the map he had been carrying around for a long time.

"What is this?" Floki asked.

"I found it in Paris, the first time we went there", Bjorn explained, "Not many have seen this. It is a map, I believe. A picture of Midgard."

Floki looked at the torn and fading parchment in awe.

"Can you read it?" he asked Bjorn in amazement.

"I believe I can", Bjorn nodded, "This blue part here seems to be the sea. And this part here would be Frankia, and over here we have England, I suppose. And the most interesting part is the sea at the lower end, here."

"And you want to go there?" Floki asked eagerly.

"I do", Bjorn confirmed, "But it is very far to travel… Can you build a boat that is strong enough for this voyage?"

"I can" Floki grinned broadly.

* * *

Aslaug sighed in annoyance with her adopted daughter. Torvi was changing Sansa's bandage, and the red-haired shieldmaiden grimaced in pain as the wound was uncovered.

"So, you know who attacked you?" Aslaug asked.

"I think so", Sansa replied, as usual.

"But you won't tell who it was?" Aslaug questioned, "How are we going to catch your attacker then?"

"I couldn't tell you", Sansa explained, "I don't want anyone to take responsibility for this…"

"You are impossible!" Aslaug exclaimed.

* * *

Gyda and Arya were sitting together in the great hall next to the hearth. For a change, the two sisters refrained from annoying each other. Sansa was grateful for this, although she had no doubt that this state would not last too long.

"When will you be good again?" Gyda asked her mother.

"In a little while", Sansa smiled at her, "Maybe a few weeks."

The girl nodded, for the moment satisfied with the answer. Sansa looked at them, and thought about her sister. She had become not a warrior, but a murderer. No one could say what life had in store for all of them.

* * *

Daenerys Targaryen was sinking to the chair in her room. The rightful Queen of Westeros was breathing heavily, although more from the shock and surprise than from actual exhaustion.

"What happened out there?" she asked her advisors, who were with her in the room.

"Your Grace, I believe that many of the people of Mereen are unhappy with the expeditions to Westeros", Varys told them.

"Why is that?" Dany demanded to know.

"It is what was to be expected", Tyrion explained, "The people have lost many of their loved ones in the war, and now they have been hit by the plague. To them, it feels as if you are not taking care of them, but rather sacrificing them for your war with Westeros."

Dany sat sullenly on the chair.

"What should I do?" she finally asked.

"Firstly, Your Grace, you should get a bandage on that wound that you have on your head", Tyrion told her, "You're bleeding."

Absent-mindedly, Dany's fingers wandered to her temple, where a stone thrown during the riots had hit her. The spot was throbbing with pain, and Dany's fingers reddened, as she touched the cut.

* * *

Sansa and Bjorn were sitting at the table, eating the dinner. The rest of the family had gathered as well, and Sansa was grateful that by now, the children were able to eat on their own instead of being fed.

"Sansa, you remember our talk about the Mediterranean Sea?" Bjorn asked his sister.

"Yes, you showed me the map", she replied, "What about it?"

"I believe it is time we try and reach it", Bjorn suggested, "I would like to depart coming spring."

Sansa thought about it for a while. Fall was just in its full strength, spring would come in six or seven months. Enough time to get ready.

"I agree", she finally said.

* * *

The days grew shorter and the weather colder. With every day, Sansa grew stronger, and when the first snow was falling outside, the pain in the scar had entirely vanished. Most of the days, she spent sparring with Bjorn or others, struggling to regain her strength.

Panting heavily, she dropped to the cold, sandy ground.

"Let me catch my breath", she finally managed to say. Bjorn stood a few paces away, easily carrying his sword and shield ready to attack her.

"On the battlefield, you cannot take a break", he reminded her, before he charged. Sansa's eyes widened in surprise as the sword came down on her. She dropped on her back, and deflected the blow with the handle of her axe. Rolling to her side, she tried a cut at Bjorn's legs, which he defended with his shield.

Sansa got back to her feet. She had no shield in her hands, only her axe. Stepping back a little, she brought more distance between herself and Bjorn. He charged at her, trying to punch her with his shield. The rim of the shield caught Sansa in the face, and the metallic taste of her own blood filled her mouth. A stream of blood was trickling down from her nose, and for a moment, she was not able to think from the pain.

Bjorn raised his sword, ready for a final blow, when Sansa leaped forward. She brought her axe around Bjorn's shield, hitting him in the side. At the same moment, Bjorn's blunt sword hit her in the back of the head, sending her to the ground in pain.

"We're both dead", Bjorn smiled down at her, as he extended his hand to her, "Are you alright?"

"I think so", Sansa replied hesitantly, while trying to feel any significant injuries.

"Enough for today", she finally declared. Bjorn nodded in agreement.

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 _Next chapter, the expedition to the Mediterranean will begin..._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	53. Setting Sail

_A/N: Thank you for all your reviews. Since I can't respond directly to guest reviews, my replies are here:  
_

 _ **ATP:** Unfortunately, I am not going to include all characters from Game of Thrones, and I'm afraid I don't have the space to include the ones you mentioned._

 ** _Batmd:_** _Since I'm filling the timeline gap in Season 4 of Vikings, it will be quite a while (if ever) until we reach the big invasion of England. How this would turn out, I haven't quite decided yet...  
_

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 **Chapter 53 Setting Sail**

It was early spring, when the boats were being prepared for Bjorn's and Sansa's attempt to reach the Mediterranean Sea. Several dozen ships were in the fjord, their flags flying in the fresh breeze.

Men, women and children were walking all around the town, gathering the necessary supplies and loading it onto the ships. Rafts were being staked out to the ships anchored in the fjord, since the pier was already overflowing. A handful of ships had been pulled on the beach for last-minute repairs.

Oars were polished, axes, spears and arrows were stacked and barrels of ale and water were placed on the decks. The customary live ravens were stored in their cages, as well as food. Freshly painted shields were hung on the sides, and spare ropes and tools were put where they belonged.

"It is going well", Sansa said, overlooking the fjord swarming with activity. Bjorn was standing next to her, nodding in silent agreement.

A few days later, they were finally ready to set sail. On the day before, they had a huge feast, which included a sacrifice to Thor and Njord, asking the gods to grant them safe passage over the seas. Sansa and Bjorn said their goodbyes to their family, before continuing with the washing rite. Then they grabbed their gear and headed towards their ships.

The oars were pulling through the water, as they made their way out of the fjord. Once they reached the open sea, they pulled the oars in. The wind filled the sails and the sun smiled down on them.

The first thing Sansa noticed about this journey was how crowded the boat was. It was not much free space normally, but this time, in expectation of a long trip, all available room had been filled with supplies.

They sailed across the North Sea, and towards the Bay of Biscay. Carefully, they stayed in the middle of the narrow channel, cautious not to be noticed by either coast. Both shores were home to enemies, and neither Sansa nor Bjorn had intentions of fighting their way through the channel.

On the northern coast of the channel was the Kingdom of Wessex, ruled by King Egbert. Only Sansa knew that they would not be welcome there anymore, after King Egbert had destroyed the settlement. She was not keen on having anyone else know about this secret, and persuaded Bjorn not to stop here.

On the southern coast, passing in the distance to their left, was the Frankish realm. The Franks were their enemies ever since the first raid on Paris. Not that anyone blamed them, but they were not the problem. The problem was Rollo's own small kingdom on the coast, where he had been granted land by the Frankish Emperor. He would only too happily attack their fleet, and he certainly had the possibility.

Hiding in the mist, the ships slowly sailed through the channel. Everyone kept a sharp eye out for anyone who might try to intercept them. All of them were relieved, when they finally had passed the last edge of the Britannic peninsula. They had made it.

They went ashore to gather fresh supplies, before they were to make an attempt at crossing the Bay of Biscay. They set their sails and departed from the coast of Frankia.

* * *

"Is this me being nervous or is there a storm coming?" Bjorn asked Sansa, as both siblings watched the sky.

"I think you are right", Sansa mused, "There's a storm brewing."

"Prepare for a storm!" Bjorn ordered, "Tie everything down, make sure nothing is going overboard."

The Vikings quickly worked on preparing their ships. Finally, they were finished, not a moment too soon. They could already watch the waves rise higher and the first gusts of wind were pulling strongly on the sails and the masts.

The ship was rocking over the sea, while the crew was on the oars, rowing steadily in an attempt to stay on course. Sansa and the others were clinging desperately to the ropes, hoping to make it through the storm alive.

Sansa's body shivered from both exhaustion and cold, when the rain finally stopped and the strong winds subsided. Slowly, the waves grew smaller, and finally, the sea became calm again.

The fleet had been scattered, but luckily, during the next hours most of the ships got together again. Some were battered badly, others were nearly fine. They turned to the south, heading for land.

For a couple of days, they saw nothing but the empty sea. They headed south and west, along the course that Bjorn had read from the fragment of the map he had found in Paris. Hopefully, this course would bring them right to the edge of the country that had been named _Hispania_ on the map. There they would turn straight south, until they would make their way to the East, into the Mediterranean Sea.

* * *

Finally, they reached land again. Floki was actually the first to spot it, and with a loud cry of joy he woke the others.

"Something is wrong here", Sansa reflected as her eyes wandered along the narrow stretch of land in front of them, partially hidden behind the banks of fog and clouds.

"What did you just say?" Bjorn asked. He had not paid much attention.

"I said, there is something wrong here", Sansa repeated, "What course are we sailing?"

"Between South and West", Bjorn shrugged, "Why?"

"Because, according to your map, Hispania's coast is running about straight west, with the sea to the north", Sansa reminded him, "If I'm not mistaken, that coastline is running south, with us approaching from the east."

Bjorn looked at the land for a while, then nodded.

"You're right", he finally said, "Where do you suppose we are?"

"Show me the map", Sansa demanded. Bjorn pulled the fragment out of his pocket and laid in on the deck. Both of them looked at the map for a moment, trying to figure out their next move.

"We could just have reached some sort of peninsula here on the coast of Hispania", Bjorn proposed.

"Possibly", Sansa admitted, "But looking at the distances, my gut tells me we are not in Hispania at all."

"What do you mean?" Bjorn asked.

"Well, our course should have brought us to the edge right here, shouldn't it?" Sansa asked, pointing at the map. Bjorn nodded.

"My guess is that we've missed the edge of Hispania entirely", Sansa explained, "Instead we have reached whatever land is to the west, about here where your fragment ends."

"Possibly", Bjorn admitted, "I guess there is only one way to find out."

The boats turned slightly, heading now for the land. As they came closer, they were able to make out more and more details. Neither Bjorn nor Sansa had ever seen land like this. The land was flat and even, and little vegetation grew there, except for shrub bushes all over. Occasionally, palms were towering over the sandy ground.

"I think I see a town back there!" Sansa cried out, pointing with her finger in the distance. As with the vegetation, the town was entirely different to anything that they had seen back home in Scandinavia, or even England or Frankia.

Sansa felt herself reminded slightly of King's Landing, although the town could hardly bare less resemblance to the Westerosi capitol. There was no castle, no harbor and barely fortifications. But still, the overall look of it, the predominant reddish mud bricks, it all reminded her of the city.

They beached the ships near the town and approached on foot. The northmen were ready to fight, each of them holding the weapons and shield at the ready.

"Don't forget, we need a prisoner to tell us where we are", Sansa reminded Bjorn.

"I know", he replied.

Unnoticed by most of the town's inhabitants, the raiding party walked to the open gate. The guards were quickly overpowered and the northmen continued into the city. At first no one seemed to notice them, then the air was filled with shrill shrieks and the sound of feet running over the dusty streets. Guards were bellowing orders and some were already moving towards the Vikings.

Sansa stabbed a guard in the face with her sword, then continued on her way. Bjorn shoved one aside with his shield, before his axe came crashing down on the guard's head. Floki blocked a spear with his hatchet, before driving his dagger in his opponent's throat.

Sansa was just barely able to hide behind her shield, when one of the guards hacked his sword at her. She could hear the blade scratching across the wooden surface, leaving a long streak in the red paint. With a loud cry, she lunged forward, hitting her opponent in the neck with her sword.

Slowly, the resistance in the town subsided. Women, children and old men were herded together by the warriors, some crying, others silently shivering with fear. Sansa and Bjorn had found themselves someone who they believed could help them with their navigational problem. A boy, almost a grown man, apparently from a noble or rich family. His clothes were of silk, decorated with rich embroidering.

Bjorn hissed in annoyance, when it turned out that the boy understood nothing of what they were saying. They tried both English and Frankish, but the boy just looked at them blankly. Sansa finally made a wide sweeping gesture, indicating their surroundings, looking at the boy. He mumbled something what neither of them was able to understand.

"Hispania?" Bjorn finally asked.

"Essos!" the boy corrected, now happy that he had been able to help.

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 _A/N: So, in case it isn't quite clear where they are:_

 _In this story, Essos is positioned in the north Atlantic. Its easternmost coast would be about 700 kilometers west of the Iberian Peninsula (that's 434 miles for all that are using the imperial system, or 378 nautical miles), while the southern coast of Essos is about the same Latitude as the strait of Gibraltar._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	54. The Hand of the Queen

_A/N: I made a longer chapter of the Daenerys/Tyrion plotline for a change..._

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 **Chapter 54 The Hand of the Queen**

The short man was overlooking this city that had become their permanent home for the last ten years. So long had it been that they had sailed out for Westeros, to reclaim the iron throne for the true Queen, Daenerys Targaryen. The Queen that should rule instead of his sister.

"Mylord Hand", he heard a voice behind him. Tyrion sighed.

"Varys, my friend", Tyrion greeted him with a smile, "What is it?"

"My little birds bring me troublesome news, I'm afraid", Varys told him, "A fleet of Northmen has been seen in the east, near Qarth."

"Was it too much to hope for good news for a change?" Tyrion asked sarcastically, "I'm getting too old for this."

"We all are, mylord", the eunuch replied smiling, "None of us is getting any younger. Even our queen will be thirty years her next nameday."

"You're right, as usual", Tyrion shrugged, "So, the Northmen at last managed to reach Essos – did your little birds by any chance tell you where they went?"

"They have not attacked Qarth so far, but are raiding the coastline", Varys reported, "Sooner rather than later, I expect someone will tell them of the numerous riches that await them here in our Queen's realm."

"Then we better plan for their arrival", Tyrion said, "Best thing we start by telling the Queen."

* * *

Daenerys Targaryen, Stromborn, Mother of dragons, breaker of chains, first of her name, Queen of the Andals of the first men was sitting on the terrace on top of the pyramid of Meeren. Queen of Westeros – what a joke, she thought. She had held this title for over ten years, yet she had not sat a single minute on the throne that once belonged to her father and now rightfully belonged to her.

After the usurper Robert Baratheon and his sons had died during Westeros' civil war, the usurper's wife, Cersei Lannister had taken the throne for herself. Shortly after, Dany had been strong enough to try and claim the Iron Throne.

But their expedition was doomed. A storm scattered most of the iron fleet, which was transporting the army to Westeros. And after making landfall, they had run into an ambush in the Kingswood, near the Roseroad.

Cersei had prepared wildfire for them, and the green flames were erupting all over the forest, swallowing the majority of Dany's army. They had no choice back to turn back and return to Dragon's bay. It took her a few years, but finally, Dany had managed to rebuild her army, strong enough to attack again.

The next time, it was Dany's turn to listen to her advisors, especially Tyrion who served as her Hand of the Queen and who had been Hand for his mad nephew, King Joffrey. During this time, he had successfully defended King's Landing during the war of the five Kings. They actually managed to lay siege on King's Landing, but a combined army of the houses Lannister and Bolton, the two most powerful houses in Westeros, in perfect synchronous attack with the city's gold cloaks, had been just enough to break through the besieging force and so, once more, Daenerys and her army had returned, defeated.

As much as she had tried, she had not been able to gather enough strength for a third attack. Not that Dany had expected it to be easy, but it took considerably longer the third time. And Tyrion had warned her, there would not be a fourth time they could do this. She had not quite understood his reasoning, but the main point was, the first time a leader suffers a defeat, the army learns that he (or she) is not invincible. A second defeat by the same opponent is a major blow to the army's morale. A third time, and the men start to think differently about their leader. So if they suffered a third defeat when trying to invade Westeros, not only would it be the destruction of her army, but also of her image as a ruler.

But still, Daenerys Targaryen was not the type of person to drop her dreams and be satisfied what she had. Those past years, she had been trying to rebuild her army. Most of the original Unsullied were dead by now. Most of the Dothraki that had backed her had been burned to death in the disaster at the Kingswood. Her army was only a shadow of its former self.

Dany sighed, tore herself free from her memories and realized she had been staring at the document in her hands for at least several minutes, yet she still hadn't read a single word. She rubbed over her eyes with her hand before she began to read again.

She looked up when she heard someone enter the terrace behind her. Turning around, she saw Tyrion Lannister stand there, leaning with his back against the rampart.

"Tyrion" Dany greeted him, "What brings you up here?"

"I wanted to ask if you needed someone to translate these taxation reports so that normal people can understand them", Tyrion smiled.

"Unfortunately for you, it's not taxation but simple requests for the crown", Dany smiled, "So I'm not going to need your help today. But surely that's not what caused you to climb up all those stairs?"

"327, Your Grace", Tyrion grinned, "But you're right I'm not here about taxation and neither did I wish to tell you the number of stairs between my rooms and yours. Varys has received a report, and I am afraid it's not great."

"Your sister is suddenly loved by the people?" Dany asked, half joking.

"No, gods forbid!" Tyrion looked at his Queen, until he recognized the joke.

"The report is about the Northmen", Tyrion told Dany, "It would seem they have finally found the way to Essos, a large fleet has been seen in the region of Qarth."

"And their intentions?" Dany wanted to know.

"Varys fears they will eventually reach dragon's bay", Tyrion explained, "You know as well as I do, that the natural way for them to continue along the coast eventually brings them here. And if the Qartheen were clever enough to tell them about richer pickings here, they can reach us within… maybe three weeks' time?"

"That is not good", Dany mused, "We cannot have them plunder their way through my Kingdom. You can use whatever military resources we have, but find a way to stop them."

"I will, my Queen", Tyrion bowed.

* * *

Tyrion was sitting in his office, the commanders of the army occupying the chairs in front of the table. Daario Naharis was there, by now looking entirely grey haired, his skin as tanned as always. Grey Worm had lost an eye at the firing inferno of the Kingswood, but the Commander of the Unsullied looked at the others as brave as always.

Aside from these old companions, several young officers had taken seats. Oro, a young Dothraki, who had been chosen by Daenerys as one of her bloodriders. Muro, the bright young man that Tyrion had shortly granted the command over the militia of Mereen. A couple of sellsword captains were present as well, their companies momentarily in Dany's service.

Yara Greyjoy, the surviving member of the Greyjoy siblings was sitting lazily in her chair, her pale skin still giving her northern descent away. Her armor was dark and oily, made to function in the rough weather at sea.

The only non-military person in the room was Missandei. Tyrion had asked her to join their meeting, because she was still one of the most trusted advisors for the Queen. And many of the sellswords might need a translation. The translator had also been wounded during the invasions, a Lannister sword had taken two of her fingers when she had fled from the Kingswood.

"My friends, I have seldom called you all together, but there is a first time for everything", Tyrion began, "There has been a new development, and I am afraid, I don't like it. Our Queen agrees with me, so I will need your help to deal with this problem."

He looked around, so far they were all listening.

"It would seem that the Northmen have reached Essos", Tyrion explained and a collective gasp went through the room, "They are not here yet, and they may never come at all, but the Queen wants to know what our plans are, once they were to reach us."

"First of all, when could we expect them the soonest?" Daario asked while playing with his dagger.

"Varys tells me, they would need about three weeks to sail along the coast", Tyrion informed him.

"What manner of men are they?" Yara Greyjoy wanted to know.

"We don't know for sure I'm afraid", Tyrion told her, "They emerged maybe the same time we all came together here. From the reports, they sound a lot like what is told about the Ironborn: they are raiders and pirates, they have laid the English Kingdoms to waste and plundered the big, fortified cities in Frankia. They are ferocious fighters and really impressive sailors, I'm told."

"That almost sounds like I could like them", Yara shrugged, "So we need to find a way to kill them?"

"That's what we're here for" Tyrion agreed.

"We can easily keep them out of the cities, I think", Daario reflected, "But she wants us to drive them away from the shore wherever they land, am I right?"

Tyrion nodded, they all knew their Queen's principles. Daario sighed.

"That is more complicated", he told them, "Grey Worm, what do you think, can we defeat them in open battle?"

The Commander of the Unsullied looked over at him.

"I don't know", he said, "It is possible but uncertain."

"Well certain is a relative word", Tyrion smiled, "It is probably best, if we stay inside the cities, until we have definitive reports of their arrival, before we march."

"That sounds about right", Daario smiled.

After the soldiers had left, Tyrion made an effort of dealing with the endless clutter of reports which were reaching a height on his desk that came dangerously close to his own. Just because there might be a conflict looming in the distance, didn't mean any excuse to neglect his normal duties of being Hand of the Queen, and the cities of dragon's bay did not govern themselves from nothing.

Without him even noticing it, the day came to its end, the sun setting over the far desert horizon. He only looked up when Missandei entered his office.

"Missandei, what is it?" he asked.

"Her Grace wants to know whether you would join her for dinner", Missandei replied.

"I didn't even realize it was that late yet", Tyrion mused, "Of course, I will. Just give me a short minute to finish this, then I will be right with you."

The translator waited silently for a while, and Tyrion stayed true to his word, not two minutes later, he had finished the report. He stood up from his chair, pulled his doublet straight, straightened the pin that identified him as the Hand of the Queen and followed Missandei to the Queen's rooms at the top of the great pyramid.

Dany was sitting in the main room of her rooms, a table for three standing in the middle. She did not have to wait long, Tyrion and Missandei arrived shortly after it was all ready. All three of them took their chairs, and began to eat. It had become a ritual among these three friends to meet most evenings for dinner, occasionally joined by Daario Naharis, Yara Greyjoy or Grey Worm, it being an easy manner of keeping each other updated what new reports, laws or any other part of governing dragon's bay.

"So Tyrion, what is to be done about the Northmen?" Dany asked while sipping on her wine, "How do we defeat them?"

"Well, Your Grace, we all agree that it is impossible to do anything before they've made their landfall", Tyrion explained, "I've asked Grey Worm to keep an eye on the defenses of Mereen. Daario will leave tomorrow and make sure that Yunkai is protected as well. Furthermore, I have prepared orders to stock up our supplies of food and weapons, so we are able to repel them, should they try and attack. The orders are ready and I will issue them tomorrow morning."

"That is all good, to defend the city", Dany told him, "But what about the countryside? What about the people living outside the city's walls?"

"Your Grace, once they threaten the people outside the city, we will march to protect them", Tyrion smiled, "We cannot make any definitive battle plans before we know where they will be, how many they are and how their army is composed. We have a strong army, it surely will be sufficient to deal with them."

"I am relieved to hear that", Dany smiled, "But if you can, try not to lose my army. I shall need it when I march against Westeros."

"Your Grace, this is not the time for this topic, but I am beginning to doubt that this project of ours will ever be fulfilled", Tyrion told her. The sad look in Daenerys' eyes showed that she was having her doubts herself.

"I cannot give it up", she told them, "You two are probably my closest friends – do you think I a fooling myself?"

"Your Grace", Missandei began, "I don't know about the seven Kingdoms. I know that you are a great Queen. A great ruler. I fear what happens when you fail again."

"Then I must not fail again", Dany answered, "And you, Tyrion?"

"Surely you remember, this was one of the topics of our very first meeting", he recalled, "If you fail, you're done once and for all. And not only in Westeros, but here in dragon's bay as well, I'm afraid. The people will follow you considerably less willingly, after you've lead them into three campaign and came back in shame and defeat after each. A family can only lose so many sons, before the parents start to blame the ruler."

"So you think I should not do it?" Dany rephrased.

"I definitely want you to do it", Tyrion smiled, "After all, it is my dream as well to see my birthlands again. But I think we're not ready, and maybe we will never be. And this time has to be the right one – there will be no fourth."

* * *

The next morning, Tyrion and Varys made a tour around the city, trying to gather what else would be necessary to defend the city against these possible attacks of the Northmen.

"It would seem, we did so a long time ago as well, my friend", Tyrion smiled as they stood on the walls, overlooking the harbor.

"We did", Varys replied swiftly, "We were both serving a King unfit to rule."

"So true", Tyrion thought, "Have you heard anything else about them?"

"You know as well as I that their King, or at least one of their Kings attacked Paris, it is years in the past by now… so they definitely are not unable to lay siege to a city", Varys said to Tyrion.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Tyrion snorted, "We're up against enemies that have so far beaten everyone they have come into contact with and you're reminding me _now_ that they know about sieges?"

"Would you have preferred it if I lied to you?" the eunuch asked in surprise.

"Of course not", Tyrion said sadly, "I just wished it wasn't us who will have to deal with them. How I would laugh if my sweet sister suddenly…"

He broke off in the middle of the sentence. That was it, the brilliant idea he knew that he would need. The Northmen were pirates and like sellswords, they could likely be bought to back the Targaryen attack on Westeros. Tyrion would just need to find the necessary money and someone to deliver that message to the leaders of the Northmen.

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 _A/N: What do you think will Bjorn and Sansa say to Tyrion's proposal?_

 _Don't forget to review!_


	55. The Game for the city

_A/N: A big thank you for all your reviews!_

 _Ragnar took off after the defeat in Paris. I wanted to keep it as canonic as I could, and maybe we will one day get far enough to reintroduce him._

 _And of course I know that there are historic examples of long-time disputes between dynasties, I only mean for one generation, three failed invasions would be enough... And considering that Dany is the last (official) member of her house, there is more pressure on her._

 _I have to admit, the varangian guard did not even come to my mind, but it is a pretty good comparison IF they succeed in taking King's Landing..._

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 **Chapter 55 The Game for the City**

"They what?" Tyrion asked as Missandei had returned from her mission.

"They laughed", the translator sighed, "They said we must be very desperate if we were offering them money before they had even begun their attack."

"Did you deliver our message?" Dany wanted to know.

"I …tried, Your Grace", Missandei stammered, "The woman, from what I get she's the other leader's sister, said that their father agreed to fight as a mercenary a long time ago for another King. It was the biggest mistake ever made by them."

"So they will not let themselves talk into fighting for someone else…" Tyrion said, "I guess then we will need to hold the city and hope for the best."

"Are you sure they will not let us talk with them?" Dany reiterated, "There must be a solution."

"I don't think this will help", Missandei shook her head.

* * *

Sansa stood up on the prow of her ship as the warriors rowed the boats towards the harbor of Mereen. Sansa flexed her hand, ready to draw her sword from its sheath. This attack had to fail. It was so obvious that there was no wall around the harbor, it equaled an invitation. Yet, they would need to probe here.

The sails were taken down and powered by the oars, the boats slid into the bay of the harbor. It was filled with all kinds of ships, ships like they had never seen before. Large trading galleys, their fat bellies drifting in the water. Enormous warships, the rams at the bows made of polished iron, now glistening in the bright sunlight.

Sansa pointed at one of the ships that was tied to the pier. Some of the men took grappling hooks in their hands the others prepared themselves for the fight. Sansa took her shield in her hand and smiled.

On a curt command, the men threw the hooks onto the war-galley and soon the Viking ship was latched alongside it. Sansa jumped over to the other deck, the warriors followed and a melee began.

Sansa opened an archer's face with her sword before the pommel hammered down on another one's helmet. Her shield caught a blade and she stabbed at her attacker, cutting through his throat.

She caught a sword with her own blade and now spun around, before the rimming on her shield hit her opponent at the base of his neck. She heard the spine crack and buried her sword in another soldier's helmet.

She punched her shield against the shield of her opponent, exposing the legs. A short stab at the unarmored inner thigh, and blood spurted high as the blade cut through the artery. Retracting her sword and already swinging it in an upward arc, the blade separated a mereenese soldier's head from his shoulders.

Sansa watched her opponent drop to the floor and took a look around. The melee was already at its last stages, most of the mereenese soldiers wounded or dead. Gathering her warriors around her, she stepped onto the solid ground of the harbor wall. Sansa saw a light barricade that had been constructed to keep them from entering the city.

Behind the barricades, the citizens of Mereen were standing ready, clutching their spears tightly, and waiting for the Vikings. Sansa and her warband marched over to where the city walls adjoined the basin of the harbor. There it would be the shortest way to the gates.

To her surprise, none of the mereneese soldiers fired upon them, as if there were no archers around. Once they had reached the right spot, Sansa took a deep breath and led the charge at the barricades.

She squeezed herself in the space between two of the spikes, then gripped her shield tightly before charging at the inhabitants of Mereen. Obviously these were not trained warriors, just some kind of militia, because as soon as Sansa and the others in her path mixed with them, they started to run. Merciless, Sansa stabbed her sword at the leg of one of the men, causing him to fall.

The mereenese militia started to rout and soon the way to the gates was open for the Vikings. Sansa raised her right arm and guided them to the gate, only now realizing the cut on her upper arm. The Northmen opened the gates and the rest of the army quickly entered the city.

* * *

"Your Grace, they're inside the city!" Tyrion reported breathlessly.

"How could that happen so fast?" Dany asked in shock, "They only arrived yesterday."

"They made a daring move and entered the harbor", Tyrion said, "They fought their way through the militia we had posted there and then made it to the gates."

"So what happens now?" Missandei wanted to know.

"Now we will hold the pyramid", Grey Worm told her, "They will have a harder time against Unsullied."

"No offense, my friend", Daario told Grey Worm, "It was never to be expected that the militia could hold long against professional warriors, but they cut through them so swift, they must be really good. I don't know if I want to bet on the Unsullied."

"Wait, did you just say you planned on having the city fall to them?" Dany asked angrily.

"No, Your Grace", Tyrion tried to calm her, "But the long, unwalled harbor was never any good at defense. Once they had made it inside, they would eventually overcome the militia. We placed them there to get experience and to warn from attacks so we could reinforce where necessary. But they cut them down so quickly, by the time the message had reached the reserves, the gates had fallen."

"Very well, Grey Worm, you will hold all entrances to the great pyramid", Dany ordered.

"Yes, Your Grace", Grey Worm bowed and walked off to issue the orders.

"I wish my dragons were here", Dany said sadly, "This would all be different then."

"Probably", Tyrion agreed, "We might also consider negotiations again."

* * *

Two days later, Sansa and Bjorn were sitting in their tent, both sweating heavily in their heavy battledress.

"What do you think?" Sansa asked, "The city itself was easy enough, but that pyramid is a tough nut to crack."

"Eventually, they'll break", Bjorn assured her, "We can starve them out, if we need to. They'll break."

* * *

Bjorn was clutching his shield tightly, as the entrance to the pyramid came into sight. He was leading this group of warriors through the dark streets at night towards the pyramid.

A fire glooming in the distance, he could see the entrance to the pyramid and a couple of soldiers guarding it. He signaled for the men to be silent, then they carefully came closer.

Just as they were close enough, they jumped into the illuminated space, their weapons ready. One of the guards was quickly cut down, the other one had managed to block Bjorn's sword with the shaft of his long spear. Bjorn punched him with his shield, but the man just took the hit and staggered back, while he called loudly for his fellow warriors. Soon the hallway was filled with both Northmen and Mereenese spearmen, engaging in a heated melee.

He hacked at a spearshaft, diverting the thrust away from his chest, before digging the blade of his sword into the eyeslits of the man's helmet. He caught another spear with his shield, before he stepped around another spearman, while cutting at his leg, severing it at the knee. Bjorn whirled around before he smashed one opponent against the wall behind him, the rim of his shield leaving severe dents on his metal helmet.

Bjorn stabbed one of the spearmen in the chest, and as the man fell, the sword was twisted from his fingers. Without hesitation, he punched the closest opponent with his shield, while his right hand found the axe on his belt.

He pulled it out and immediately buried the axehead in his opponent's shoulder. Looking up, he saw another large group of spearmen approach from the interior of the pyramid.

Soon the Northmen would be outnumbered. At the moment, most bodies were of mereenese origin, but soon enough this ratio would change. This time they would not be able to break through, he realized.

"Fall back!" he ordered, before stabbing his opponent, and leading the survivors of this attack away from the pyramid.

* * *

Sansa was sitting in her tent. A stray arrow had hit her in the leg during the fights in the city, and the wound had prevented her from joining the attack. She had a horn of ale in her hand and wished she could be up there, fighting. She was bored to death down here in camp.

She looked up, when she saw Bjorn enter the tent. He angrily threw his shield aside, before he grabbed a horn of ale and gulped it down thirstily.

"How did it go?" Sansa asked carefully, although she already suspected what answer she would get.

"We can't get through", Bjorn stated.

* * *

The next day, the Queen of Mereen and Westeros was watching her advisors.

"So you are saying that the Unsullied finally found their defeat?" she asked angrily.

"We are not defeated", Grey Worm told her, "But it was close. I fear we will not be able to stop them forever."

"I believe we should try and come to terms with them, while we still can", Tyrion said, "We are still stronger than after they have taken the city and taken us all captive."

"I agree, we should try and talk with them", Missandei said, "We make peace with our enemies, not with our friends."

"I doubt that they will accept your terms", Yara Greyjoy added, "But in lack of a better idea, I agree."

They all shuddered, when the big pyramid was hit by rocks, thrown from the small catapults the northmen had built down in the city. The rocks glanced off the outer walls, yet inside the pyramid, it was an enormous, loud thunder as the rocks found their target. Dust spilled down from the ceiling and everyone in the room looked up in fear.

"I believe, it will probably for the best if we tried to come to terms with them", Dany finally agreed, "Missandei, will you bring the message to them?"

* * *

Bjorn and Sansa were sitting in their tent, joined by Floki, Helga and some of the others and looked at the messenger form the city. She was pretty, Bjorn had to admit. And despite her city being besieged, she stood proudly before them.

"I was asked to arrange for an official meeting to negotiate terms of an agreement", Missandei began.

"Why should we agree to this meeting?" Bjorn wanted to know.

"Our commanders agree that you will not take the pyramid", Missandei promised, "Not when it's defended by Unsullied."

"I say we can take it", Sansa disagreed, "So why should we listen to your pleas?"

"You can starve us to death in there, true", Missandei pointed out, "But it will either take a long time, or it will cost you many men. I believe it is worth talking about, is it not?"

"You may have a point", Sansa reluctantly agreed.

"Where would we hold this meeting?" Bjorn objected, "As soon as my sister and I enter the pyramid, we will be killed. And I doubt that your leaders are willing to take the same risk with us."

"We propose that the meeting is held between one of your leaders and one of ours. Within the pyramid, in the middle of the hallway, so that both sides can see it clearly", the translator suggested, "When warriors of both sides are nearby, but at the same distance, it should be save for all."

"That is a good idea", Sansa decided, "Tell them, I will met an emissary tomorrow at noon."

Missandei bowed and left. As soon as they were alone in the tent, Bjorn turned to Sansa.

"Are you mad now, sister?" he snapped.

"Do you have a plan how to get into the pyramid?" Sansa asked, "It never hurts to listen to their offer."

* * *

Tyrion was sitting in the middle of the hallway, just between the Northmen and the group of Unsullied in his back. Judging by the looks the Northmen threw at him, he began to doubt that this place for negotiation was such a great choice.

Sansa had planned her appearance almost to perfection, with a little blood smeared on her shieldmaiden braids, darkening her hair and covering parts of her tattoos.

She walked into the hallway and took her first look at her partner for these negotiations. A dwarf, she thought. She seemed to be attracting them somehow. A long lost memory surfaced from the back of her mind.

She walked forward. Surely her mind was playing her a trick, but he looked exactly like him. But it seemed rather doubtful that he would have survived after the purple wedding, wouldn't he? Yet, this was not exactly King's Landing, wasn't it? On a third look she was almost sure – she was staring into the familiar eyes of Tyrion Lannister.

Without giving away their familiarity, Sansa sat down in front of him. Both eyed each other for a moment.

"You have asked for this meeting, maybe you want to tell me what you want?" she offered with well-trained arrogance.

"We want you to consider how many of your lives it is worth to take that pyramid", Tyrion told her.

"Are you the King of this city?" Sansa asked, although the Hand-shaped pin on his chest already gave it away.

"No, I am what is considered Hand of the Queen, Daenerys of House Targaryen, First of her Name and Queen of Dragon's bay and the seven Kingdoms of Westeros", Tyrion introduced herself, "My name is Tyrion of Clan Lannister, the Imp, the shame of my house and the Hand of the rightful Queen."

"The rightful Queen?" Sansa asked in surprise, "It would seem, the circumstances have not become much better since I last visited Westeros."

"You have seen the seven Kingdoms?" Tyrion wanted to know, genuinely interested.

"I was there a time of my youth", Sansa shrugged, "I don't have the best memories about it."

"Probably not", Tyrion agreed, "The thing is, I believe you will not easily defeat us. If you do, you will be weaker than before. If you stop your attack and let us prepare for our upcoming invasion of Westeros, we will pay you. If you decided to join us, we would reward you for your service from the plunder of the cities of Westeros."

"A tempting offer, I must say", Sansa smiled, "I will need to think about it and then talk with my brother about it. But who is the King in Westeros? Who would we be facing?"

"My beast of a sister reigns as Queen", Tyrion began, "She has the power of house Lannister behind her. Since all of the Tyrells and Starks are dead, these houses cannot contribute in either way. The Boltons and Freys in the North and the Riverlands are allies of the Lannisters. The Baratheons are gone as well, so it's basically us against everyone."

"Well in that case, I guess I will have to talk my brother into helping you out, _imp_ ", Sansa grinned.

"I guess you don't know better, but I really hate that name", Tyrion said dangerously.

"Oh, but I do know better than to call you _dwarf_ ", Sansa laughed, "Although I would say I take the right of a long lost friend to call you that."

"Long lost friend?" Tyrion was now confused, "I am sorry but I don't remember you."

"Now you insult me, dear Tyrion", Sansa grinned, "After all, we used to be married…"

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 _A/N: I'm sure many of you hoped for this alliance from the beginning of the chapter, but I hope it was worth the wait..._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	56. Among friends

**56 Among friends**

It seemed an hour to him when Tyrion Lannister awoke from his shock. In truth he had stared at her for maybe a minute - not longer.

"Sansa Stark?!" He finally managed to say. She just smiled at him.

"Well would you not agree that it is true that this is an unusual place to see us again?" Sansa giggled at the stupefied face he was making.

"Most… definitely", Tyrion said, before he finally joined in her laugh, "So you've made a fortune for you after all."

"I was lucky enough to find a family who took me in as if I were their own daughter", Sansa told him, "And by the will of the gods, he later became the King of the country I learned to love."

"Then you had finally a good life, I am happy for you", Tyrion smiled, "You deserve it. But how can it be that you command an army?"

"In my country, many women become warriors", Sansa explained, "I am the adopted daughter of a king, so it is only a logical choice for me to lead as good as I can."

"Is your new father with the army?" Tyrion asked, now more motivated by a genuine interest.

"No, he has taken leave from reigning", she told him, "My brother is leading this expedition."

"I understand", Tyrion sighed, "You have begun an entirely new life. Then I believe we must part now and tell about our meetings to our commanders."

Both stood up and walked back to their groups, each smiling widely.

* * *

"You did what?" Bjorn raged as she told him of the result of the meeting.

"I agreed to lift the siege and help them in their invasion of Westeros", Sansa repeated, "In exchange for treasures, we are to bring them to the seven Kingdoms. Once we've set them ashore we can either leave or fight with them against the usurper on the throne."

Bjorn took a sip of ale trying to calm his anger at his independent sister.

"But why did you give in so easily?" he asked in exasperation.

"Because Westeros is the country I was born in", Sansa explained, "The Queen on the throne is the same old bitch that caused me to lose my family in the first place. Actually, the advisor of the Queen of this city is her brother, the dwarf. The man I was once married to…"

"Did he…?" Bjorn wanted to know.

"No, he was …gentle, I guess is the word", Sansa reflected, "He promised me he would not touch me against my will and he never did."

"But…" Bjorn set on, but was cut off by his sister.

"Nothing _but_ ", Sansa told him, "This is my only chance of ever avenging those that were killed. We get treasure, we are the first Northmen to sail that far and we don't even have to worry about finding the way. What do you say, brother?"

Bjorn looked at her for a minute.

"Damn you, Sansa", he said with mock despair, "You know exactly what you need to say to get me to do it…"

* * *

Sansa walked up to the Unsullied who were still guarding the hallway to the pyramid, where the Vikings still held the other corner, both sides conscious of a possible betrayal by the others.

"I have a message for the Hand of the Queen", she said and was let through immediately. It felt weird walking in these corridors, behind the enemy's lines, technically. One of the Unsullied guided her towards Tyrion's room. She knocked on the door and entered.

"I see you have an answer for me?" Tyrion began, sitting behind his desk, cluttered with papers and books. He offered her a chair and Sansa sat down.

"I do", Sansa said, "My brother is generally accepting of the terms. There are conditions, though."

"So?" Tyrion asked.

"My brother insists that we will keep any treasure collected by the Viking forces", Sansa began, "Aside from that, we want payment from the city of Mereen, for not burning it down entirely and as an advance for the treasures of Westeros."

"Agreed", Tyrion sighed, "It will probably ruinous, but I guess this is only fair. Anything else?"

"Yes, a personal wish of mine", Sansa continued, "In the rather unlikely event, that we catch your sister alive, I want to kill her."

"She will die in every case", Tyrion assured her.

"You don't get it", Sansa argued, "I want to kill her _myself._ "

"I wanted to do that myself", Tyrion told her, "But maybe your claim is as legit as mine. How about we decide once we've actually managed to get her alive?"

"Agreed", Sansa smiled, "Then I guess, I can say, when do we set sail?"

"Why don't you invite your brother do dine with us and the Queen this evening?" Tyrion offered, "Then we can go over the details and also seal the deal."

* * *

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Dany asked as they waited for their guests, "Normally, I would invite them to the throne room. This is much more intimate."

"Your Grace, they don't come as someone who wants something from you", Tyrion reminded her, "Receiving them in the throne room would put you in a position of power…"

"Then what is wrong with that?" Dany raged.

"We are not in a position of power", Tyrion clarified, "They have essentially defeated us. Now they have graciously accepted us as allies, a bargain struck hard enough, if I may remind you. If we were to receive them with a false show of power, we would insult them and we are right where it all began."

Bjorn and Sansa stepped out on the terrace, where Tyrion and Dany awaited them. Missandei was there as well, in case any of the parties had trouble understanding each other.

Dany eyed them both for a long moment, taking in the many scars that showed them being fearsome and experienced warriors. Sansa mustered Dany as well, unsure what to expect from the Queen whose father had usually been referred to as the 'Mad King'. Bjorn glanced over them both, but his gaze rested mainly on Tyrion trying to judge the short man.

"Shall we eat?" Tyrion finally offered as the silence began to feel awkward to them all. The five sat down on the table and Bjorn and Sansa began to eat with great appetite. Tyrion and Dany exchanged a short glance at the speed in which the Northmen dug into their food.

"So, since we are to be allies, what should I know about you?" Dany finally asked. Bjorn looked up from his food and gulped, before smiling.

"We are a people of warriors, milady", he smiled, "Most of us have spent half their lives on the battlefield or on a raid. Aside from that, we're mostly farmers and traders."

"So you think you will prove a valuable asset to my efforts of retaking my Kingdom?" Dany wanted to know.

"I don't know, Your Grace", Sansa smiled between sips from her wine, "But we're good at what we're doing. We are not invincible, but we rarely lose."

"I believe that will do then" Dany smiled.

"And what about the two of you?" she asked, now personally interested, "Tell me about yourselves, your families…"

"Bjorn's father found me in a monastery, where I had been hiding after the purple wedding", Sansa began the story, "He brought me back to sell me as a slave, but then decided to keep me for his own family. With time, he rose to Earl and I became a good friend to all of them. When Bjorn and his mother left, I was adopted into the household."

"We met again when our father got into a war with one of his neighbors", Bjorn continued the tale, "That was the first time we both stood on a battlefield. Then we went raiding together, where we both earned our nicknames and soon became a good team."

"And as it turned out, our father had a low-burning disagreement with the King and when the King attacked us, he and his family were killed", Sansa finished.

"Do you think it was wise to tell me that story?" Dany threatened, "Especially with you knowing what happened to my family?"

"I'd rather tell it as it was than risk you finding out the truth later", Sansa shrugged, "And what does it matter? In our country, the one who is able to defeat the ruler is the next ruler - it's just the way it is."

Dany thought about that for a moment. Only the strong rule… It sounded a lot like what she had learned about the Dothraki a long time ago. And she did not condemn them either.

"And what about your families?" Dany asked, "Surely there's not only you two and your father?"

"Well, my beautiful sister here is a widow", Bjorn told the others, "But she has two daughters, really talented fighters. All our brothers used to be frightened of them."

"We have four more brothers", Sansa clarified, "And with the age difference, my twins were born shortly after the youngest one of my brothers."

* * *

The next weeks were full of feverish activity, as the Targaryen army prepared to embark on the Viking fleet. Sansa and Bjorn had been introduced to the other commanders of the Mereenese forces as well, so they had both met Daario Naharis, Yara Greyjoy, Grey Worm as well as Varys.

Bjorn was overseeing the preparations when Sansa stepped next to him.

"Is everything going alright?" she asked her brother.

"Sure", Bjorn smiled, "I just hate the preparation phase."

"Me too", Sansa grinned, "I wish we were already at sea."

Both looked up when they saw Yara Greyjoy and her Ironborn approach.

"So you are the famous new allies", Yara sneered, "I hope you're capable of transporting the whole army."

"I hope so as well", Bjorn told her, "But I don't see any problems yet."

"Always remember that we are a lot", Yara smirked, "And you will need supplies for the time at sea as well."

* * *

Two weeks later, the army was embarked on the Viking Fleet and the small remnants of the former Iron Fleet. Dany and Missandei had chosen to sail on the same boat as Bjorn, while Sansa had invited Tyrion and Varys to sail on another boat. Since it doubled their chances of getting at least some of the important leaders over the dangerous voyage, they had all readily agreed.

Dany was a little unsure what to think of these shallow built longships, but soon she agreed that they seemed to be well seaworthy. Dany walked up to the prow, where Bjorn was standing and looking ahead, his eyes encompassing the wide horizon of the sea.

"So what do you think is going to happen once we reach Westeros?" Dany asked.

"How would I know?" Bjorn smiled at her, "I know next to nothing about these lands. I know the seas and I know how to fight. The rest is up to the gods."

"The old gods or the new?" Dany wanted to know, "Or do you worship the drowned god?"

"I don't know what you're talking about", Bjorn shook his head, "I don't know anything about old and new gods. I know about the gods of my country. And I hope that they will grant us victory."

* * *

In another boat, Tyrion was sitting on one of the benches, watching Sansa steer the boat from the helm.

"You know what you're doing, I suppose?" he asked.

"Of course", Sansa retorted, "I've been at home on the seas for almost as long as we hadn't seen each other. I guess I've learned a thing or two."

"I hope so", Tyrion replied, "When did you learn to kill? Unless you killed Joffrey back then. I still don't know whether I should believe it."

"I didn't kill him", Sansa told him, "It was Littlefinger and that old lady, Margeaery's grandmother… what was her name? I killed the first time, I believe it was six years after I left King's Landing. In a battle against the forces of a neighboring clan. What was your first time?"

"That's long past", Tyrion smiled to himself, "It was when your father was still alive. I had been captured by your mother and was taken to the eerie. We were ambushed by the hilltribes."

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 _A/N: So I hope I didn't disappoint you with my version of Tyrion's reaction..._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	57. Sails in the mist

_A/N: Sorry it's so short...  
_

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 **57 Sails in the mist**

Sansa was standing on the helm, steering her ship with the rest of the fleet. Their course was westbound, following the southern coast of Essos, avoiding Valyria, and heading for the narrow sea. Once they had crossed it, they would finally reach Westeros.

Nights and days exchanged in endless succession, and whenever they saw an edge of the shore in front of them, most of them hoped they had already reached the end of Essos. So far, every time they had been disappointed, the large continent seemed to never end.

"How long will it take?" Sansa asked Tyrion who was sitting one the oar next to her.

"I am not entirely sure", he smiled apologetically, "It took us several months, when I travelled the other direction the first time. But we only had a small boat and usually halted for the night…"

They continued forward, mostly profiting from a steady breeze westward. The sails were full, and the oars only needed to be employed rarely.

Finally, they reached the edge of Essos. To their right, the shore dwindled away to the north until it could not be seen anymore. Behind them, the coast was disappearing in the east. In front of them, the narrow sea stretched to the horizon, calm and steady. The sun was glistening from the surface of the water, and they had to close their eyes from the brightness.

"We made it", Bjorn told the others, as they were standing on a cliff, looking out to the sea.

"The narrow sea", Tyrion agreed, "It can be crossed within a few days of travel."

"We need supplies", Sansa reminded them, "We don't know exactly how long it will take us and where we will land."

They entered the free city of Pentos, where they replenished their supplies. Magister Ilyrio, the one that had given Dany her dragon's eggs so long ago, was helping them to supplies.

There had been much discussion before they entered the port. Both Varys and Dany had argued that it was too obvious, that surely there were spies for Queen Cersei in town, and she would be warned. Bjorn and Sansa had been adamant in their opinion to restock their supplies, and Tyrion had reluctantly taken their side as well.

They stayed in Pentos for three days. In this time, the longships were a common sight in the harbor, alongside trade galleys from Lys and Braavos, or the warships of Pentos' own fleet.

During their stay in Pentos, the ships were swarming with activity. Everyone helped in loading the supplies. Dried fish, bread, barrels of wine and water, fruits and vegetables, it all was being stacked on the ships, using every available space.

In the meantime, the leaders were conferring in Ilyrio's villa. The Magister of Pentos had obtained a large map of Westeros, showing all of the land as well as the narrow sea where they needed to cross.

"Where are the Lannisters the strongest?" Sansa asked, looking over the large map with the familiar names on it.

"Obviously in the westerlands", Tyrion told her, "The whole western coast, from Casterly Rock down to Oldtown is under their control. Some areas stronger than other, but the redcloaks are ever present."

"And north of Lannisport, most of the coast is under the control of my uncle Euron", Yara Greyjoy added, "He reigns the waters up north to Deepwood Motte and possibly up to the wall. Only the people of Bear Island have a bit of control left about themselves."

"In any case, we need to attack King's Landing where the Iron Throne is", Dany interrupted them, "As long as the city is standing, they have a stronghold there."

"But King's Landing is a well-fortified city", Bjorn disagreed, "Attacking there can cost us the entire army and then we don't have enough strength to control the rest of the country."

"The Lannister-bitch is sitting on my throne", Dany reminded him, "I need her head. The sooner the better."

"Do we have any allies in Westeros?" Sansa asked Varys.

"Well, the Ironborn have pretty much gained their independence, there is no love lost between them and the Lannisters", the eunuch explained, "But they aren't a possible choice for allies for us."

"The Dornish have not taken the death of Prince Oberyn well", Tyrion continued, "And in retaliation, they killed Princess Myrcella, which understandably upset my sister. Ever since, the whole Dornish lands have been in rebellion against the Iron Throne. Strangely they allied with the Queen of Thornes of Highgarden."

"Weren't the Tyrells and the Dornish always enemies?" Sansa frowned.

"They were, my dear", Varys explained, "But since Mace Tyrell and his children were murdered by Cersei, Oleanna Tyrell has made her peace with the Sand Snakes and Ellaria Sand, who killed Prince Doran. And although Oleanna died two years ago, they have been holding out against the Lannister forces. The whole of Dorne and the Reach south of Highgarden is basically an independent state by now."

"But marching ashore in Dorne is not the best idea either", Bjorn disagreed, "There seems to be a stretch of mountains, separating Dorne from the Reach. Are there passes over the mountains?"

"There are" Varys told him, "But they are dangerous, long and right at the border between the Tyrell lands and the Lannister-controlled lands."

"The Vale of Arryn and the fingers is not suitable for a landing either", Dany elaborated, "Too many cliffs, too many mountains to climb over."

"What about the north?" Daario Naharis asked.

"Too far off our objective", Sansa disagreed, "The march from Winterfell to King's Landing takes a full month, at best. In the meantime, we would need to fight our way past the Boltons and the Freys, before we come even close to the Lannisters."

"So, we know where we cannot land", Dany reminded them, "But where can we? As I see it, only Dorne and King's Landing remain as possibilities."

"Then I would vote for King's Landing", Bjorn told her, "There is little use in landing in Dorne. It is better to force a decision right there."

"I agree", Tyrion smiled, "Straight for King's Landing. Once the city has fallen, the alliances will scatter and subjugating the remaining country should be easier."

* * *

"I bid you farewell" Ilyrio Mopatis said as Dany and the others boarded their ships, "I wish you good luck. May all the gods smile on your adventure!"

"My thanks, Magister", Dany replied politely, "You have proven yourself once more a great help to our cause."

She turned around and walked to the ship, and walked over a thin plank aboard. The ropes were loosened, and one after the other, the ships veered away from the piers and towards the exit of the harbor.

Once they had reached the open sea, they set their sails, caught the fresh breeze and gained speed. Sansa was standing on the helm, smiling as her face was bathed in the warm sun, listening to the sounds of the ropes and the sail and the mall waves crashing against the ship's hull.

"You really are enjoying this", Tyrion stated, as he watched her.

"There are few things that feel better, than being in control of a ship", she tried to explain, "It feels like freedom. When you can feel the wind pulling on your hair and filling the sail, the waves washing against the hull… It is amazing."

Tyrion looked at her skeptically for a moment.

"Do you want to try it?" Sansa suddenly offered.

"Really?" Tyrion asked, "Are you sure?"

"Come on, it can be learned", Sansa told him. Tyrion walked over to the helm and took over form Sansa. In the beginning, he was holding the helm tightly but a slightly bigger waved rocked the ship and he was thrown of his feet. Blushing, he came back to his feet.

"I am not built for steering ships", he finally declared.

"I don't believe that", Sansa encouraged him, "You are just at a slight disadvantage. Sit yourself back against the hull, then you have much better control."

He tried again, and soon he was getting the way of it. He observed, that the ship itself was searching for the best course, if he steered too straight, it would slow down. All he had to do was keep a general course, the ship's body did the rest.

* * *

The Grand Maester was sitting in his chamber in the Red Keep. Most of the room was in the dark, only a handful of candles were casting a flickering light on the walls and the ceiling.

"This is not good", Grand Maester Qyburn muttered to himself, "Not good at all."

He placed the parchment which he had been reading back on his table. He left his chamber and made carefully sure that the door was locked behind him. He walked through the castle, until he finally came to the tower of the Hand.

He hesitated for a moment, under normal circumstances he would have brought this kind of news before the Queen herself. Qyburn took a deep breath and knocked.

"What can I do for you, Grand Maester?" Littlefinger asked, looking up from his own desk, which was overflowing with official documents.

"I have just received a startling report", Qyburn began, "Apparently, the Northmen have invaded Slaver's bay."

"Her Grace will be pleased to hear that", Petyr Baelish smiled cruelly, "That should put an end to the Targaryen girl's ambitions."

"Quite the contrary", Qyburn sighed, "It seems that she has turned them into allies. They are already on their way to Westeros."

Littlefinger cursed. Why was it too much just to be left in peace? The girl had no more claim to the Iron Throne, yet she seemed to be unable to give up. And even when all her forces were destroyed, she just gathered a new army.

"Her Grace is expected back from her trip to Casterly Rock this evening", he told Qyburn, "You will bring this report to her attention immediately. Have you any idea when they are going to arrive?"

"That depends on how long their stay in slaver's bay was", Qyburn reflected, "It took the messenger weeks to reach me, I suspect they are already well underway. It could be any day."

* * *

Sansa awoke from her sleep on the deck, when Tyrion stumbled over her.

"Ouch", she winced.

"Sorry", he smiled apologetically, "But you need to wake up in any case. We are reaching King's Landing."

The shieldmaiden scrambled to her feet, then staggered to the ship's prow. All around her, the warriors were manning the oars, bringing the fleet steadily through Blackwater bay. She stepped up on the small platform below the dragonhead figure and looked out in the fog.

"Are you sure?" she asked, "All I can see is fog, and the other ships."

"It is close", Tyrion insisted.

Sansa's eyes strained, as she tried to glimpse through the thick fog. He was probably right, but still she was unable to see any landmarks. Then finally, she could see a monstrously high shape rise through the fog.

"That's the Red Keep", Tyrion explained. Sansa looked closer for a moment, and although she still could not make out any details, she had to agree. In front of her was the royal castle.

They had reached King's Landing.

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 _A/N: So, next chapter will be the long awaited invasion of Westeros. I hope you are all excited and ready for some action..._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	58. The redwater

_A/N: This takes up right at the scene where the other chapter ended..._

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 **58 The Redwater**

Sansa dipped her fingers in a bucket of pig's blood, before she smeared it along her braids. The fog was still enclosing the Viking fleet, but the sounds of the harbor of King's Landing could already be heard, dampened only a little by the fog.

"Be quiet", she urged the others, before she took her shield in her hand and drew her sword from its sheath.

Silently, the ships slid to the pier, and the northmen swarmed ashore. The merchants and sailors who were already working in the harbor were shocked to see them mix in between them and cut them down. Shrill shrieks of fear mixed with loud cries of pain, as the stones of the pier were reddened by blood.

Sansa chopped a fat trader's head clean off, before turning to the next one. A young man came at her, a dagger raised high. She blocked his stab with the blade of her sword, and the man's eyes widened in surprise as he watched his hand fall down at his feet. Blood was pumping out of the stump of his arm, until Sansa slashed her sword across his throat once.

Bjorn was fighting a few feet away from his adopted sister. He blocked a goldcloak's spear with his shield, before his axe came down on the watchman's head. He saw someone else come running at him. Bjorn took careful aim, then threw his axe, splitting the man's head right in two.

Daenerys had stayed aboard the ship observing the battle from the back. She shuddered with every scream she heard, only able to guess what a massacre the northmen and her own warriors were causing among the population of the city she intended to liberate.

Sansa charged at a Lannister guard, the infamous redcloaks. He thrusted his spear forward, narrowly missing her head. She tried to cut at his leg, but the blade glanced of her opponent's armor. She was hit in the shoulder with the shaft of the spear, and at the same moment, punched her shield at the guard's helmet. The helmet's visor caved in and blood was flowing out, where she had cracked the face.

Bjorn slashed at someone's face, then punched another guard with his shield. An arrow hit his shield and he tried to hack at a redcloak, but the axe was stopped by the guard's shield. He pulled his weapon back, and had to catch his opponent's sword with his shield. He swung his axe around, and the axehead came up from underneath the guardsman's chin, ripping through the thin metal of the helmet, opening the guard's face.

* * *

In the Red Keep, Queen Cersei was awoken from her sleep by a sharp rap on her chamber's door.

"Your Grace!" the knight of the King's Guard called, "The city is under attack!"

Immediately sitting up, Cersei rushed to the door.

"The northmen?" she asked.

"It seems so", the knight replied, "The report is a little unclear, but there is heavy fighting in the harbor."

"Alarm all goldcloaks to respond to the Mud Gate immediately", Cersei ordered, "Have the lords of the court assemble their men and take up defensive positions around the Red Keep. Close the drawbridge!"

"Yes, Your Grace", the knight answered, before he walked off. Cersei closed the door of her chambers and began to get dressed for the day.

* * *

Sansa was just pulling her blade out of a body, when she realized that the gate was still open. Without hesitation, she charged. Arrows were shot at her from the gatehouse, but somehow she made it. Having reached the blind spot where she could not be reached with arrows, she took a deep breath. She was now the first northman inside the city.

"To me!" she yelled, "Hold the gate!"

A group of Vikings ran to her, and a group of goldcloaks readied themselves to retake the Mud Gate.

"Shieldwall!" Sansa ordered, and immediately the shields were overlapping, forming a tight wall of wood and metal. The goldcloaks were running against it, trying to push the shieldwall back out of the city. Spears and sword crashed against the wooden planks, but failed to penetrate.

With every moment, the numbers of the attackers were growing, as the Northmen, Dothraki and freedmen of Dragon's Bay finalized the slaughter on the pier and joined the shieldwall.

Sansa looked up, still crouching behind her shield, when Bjorn stepped next to her.

"We are in the city", she smiled broadly, "Hard to actually believe."

"Indeed, we are already in", Bjorn agreed, "Let's push a little further, so we have a firmer grip on the gate."

Slowly, the shieldwall advanced, urging the goldcloaks and the citizens of King's Landing back along the street. Finally, the defenders broke and ran, only to rally themselves and form up behind hastily erected barricades in the streets.

"Get the Queen", Sansa asked Grey Worm, who had stepped forward as well. The commander of the Unsullied turned and walked to inform the rightful Queen of the development.

Daenerys looked up as she saw Grey Worm approach her. Missandei stood next to her, both were anxiously listening for the sounds of the battle, although they could hardly see anything through the morning fog.

"Your Grace", Grey Worm began, "The gate has fallen."

"That was quick", Dany declared in surprise. She and Missandei stepped ashore and were soon joined by Tyrion who had come from another ship. Together the marched along the pier until they reached the Mud Gate.

"The water is red from all the blood", Dany stated as she looked at the water in the harbor.

"The prize of war, Your Grace", Tyrion told her.

"These are my people", Dany reminded him, "How can I have them suffer like this?"

"You probably don't have to", Tyrion suggested, "If they were to peacefully surrender, it would mean a lot less bloodshed."

Dany thought about this for a moment, then marched into the city. Passing the Mud Gate, she walked along the street, until the shieldwall of the northmen was in front of her. Beyond the shieldwall, the citizens of King's Landing had built barricades and were now standing ready there.

Two of the Viking warriors put down their shields and she stepped on it. Carefully, they lifted her up, until she could be seen from all around.

"Citizens of King's Landing!" Dany called out, "You all have heard of me. I am Daenerys Targaryen, the stormborn, the mother of dragons. I am your rightful Queen and I've come to lay claim to the Iron Throne."

"Many of you have suffered, and during the last years, my right to rule has probably been among the reasons for your suffering", she added, "For that my heart is filled with sorrows. But I can end your suffering here and now. Every man, woman or child, sworn in service to the Lannisters or simply trying to protect his home and hearth shall be protected, if you lay down your weapons."

For the moment, her speech seemed not to have left much impact, the men holding the barricades were just defiantly staring at her. Then the first one flung his spear to the ground, and a few more followed. Soon most of the men on the barricades had surrendered themselves into the mercy of their new Queen.

The northmen were breaking down the barricades, the few that had not wanted to surrender had retreated further into the city. Some made their stands on other barricades, blocking the advance to the Red Keep.

* * *

Inside the Red Keep, morale was falling quickly. Small wonder, considering that during all these years of civil war, the city of King's Landing had never actually fallen. And only the oldest ones remembered the sack of the city by Lannister forces, when Jaime Lannister had killed the Mad King and Grand Maester Pycelle had opened the gates for the army of Tywin Lannister.

Jaime Lannister, called the Kingslayer, was now standing on the battlements of the outer wall of the Red Keep. Next to him was Ser Bronn of the Blackwater, the knighted sellsword.

"You know, it looks exactly like the last time", Jaime reflected.

"Well, I wouldn't know", Bronn shrugged.

"And I'm actually glad that there was no time to restock the wildfire", Jaime sighed, "Cersei is capable of burning the city, just as Aerys Targaryen was. But I don't think I could do the right thing another time."

"Well, they surprised them at the gate", Bronn told him, "They will have it harder to take the Red Keep."

"Let's hope so", Jaime replied.

* * *

Covering herself with her shield, Sansa advanced through a hail of arrows, bolts and javelins. It had been three days since the city had fallen, but they were still clearing the last remaining barricades. Whenever they approached the Red Keep there were some stout defenders who stopped them, and many lives had been lost during these final stages of securing the city. But there was no helping it – without clearing the city from Lannister forces, there would not be an assault on the castle.

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 _A/N: Be honest - did you think the siege would be over so quickly?  
_

 _I hope you liked the way I wrote the battle. I definitely wanted to avoid another long siege (there is still one coming for the castle), so the only way I could think of was a coup-de-main, surprising the warriors and guards at the gates and quickly getting inside..._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	59. Burn them all

**59 Burn them all**

The leaders of the attacking army were sitting in the house they had occupied for their command area. The mood was bleak, they were still in shock.

Every once in a while, a pair of eyes would dart to the now empty seat on the table. Only a few hours ago, its occupant had been alive, before he was killed in one of the most gruesome ways the remaining leaders could imagine.

They had made yet another attempt at storming the gates to the Red Keep. It had been more than a week since the city had fallen, but the royal castle stood as firm as before, impenetrable to any of the attacks.

Under the hail of arrows, bolts, javelins and stones from the battlements, they had brought forward a cage, guarding the warriors who would be working the ram. Once they had opened the gate, there would not be much more resistance.

The ram kept crashing against the thick planks of the gate, but the wood was too strong. The men grew tired and had to be replaced, while the wood barely showed a dent.

* * *

"Your Grace", Littlefinger said as he bowed before the Queen. Cersei was sitting on the Iron Throne in the now empty throne room. The courtiers had left, assembling their men and supervising the battle form the battlements and the towers.

"What is it?" the Queen asked.

"They are almost inside the Red Keep", Petyr replied, "You should consider taking refuge in Maegor's Holdfast."

"And why should I do that?" Cersei sneered.

"You would be safer there", Littlefinger told her, "The Targaryen Girl will take your head, if she was to take the Red Keep."

"Thank you for your concern", Cersei replied with an icy politeness in her voice, "But they are not going to take the Red Keep. Burn them… Burn them all."

* * *

The ram was still crashing against the gate. Gradually, the damage was increasing, although painfully slow. The cage was shuddering under the impact of boulders, but it still held up.

Sansa, Bjorn, Daario Naharis, Grey Worm and everyone else under the cage kept glancing at the planks over their head, expecting any moment to see one of the stones break through.

"I wish we had brought the tools that Erlendur had made for the first attack on Paris", Bjorn muttered.

"They would be doing us some good", Sansa agreed, "But we don't have them."

* * *

"What can I do for you, Mylord Hand?" Qyburn asked, as Littlefinger entered the Grand Maester's chamber.

"I have some messages to send to our Queen's allies" he replied.

"Leave them with me, I will take care of them", Qyburn answered.

"Actually, I was hoping to send them myself", Littlefinger disagreed, "You see, these are rather urgent calls for the Lords Frey and Bolton, to come to Her Grace's aid."

"And why do you not want me to send these?" Qyburn wanted to know, "Do you not trust me?"

"Of course I don't trust you", Littlefinger smiled, "Would you trust you? And are you trusting me?"

"No and no", the Grand Maester smiled, "We both know how the game is played, apparently. So, come with me to the rookery."

* * *

The men under the cage at the gate were desperate. Their numbers were slowly going down. Grey Worm had been taken back to the camp with an arrow in his leg. Many more of Unsullied, Second Sons, or Northmen were lying around the gate, dead or dying.

The gate still had not broken down, the ram was not strong enough to force a way through. Sansa and Bjorn took a few steps back, inspecting the situation outside of the cage.

"I think we need to fall back soon", Bjorn suggested, "We are not going to break through at any time soon."

"You might be right", Sansa mused, "But let's try a little longer, shall we?"

* * *

On the inside of the gate the defenders were readily awaiting them. Bronn looked at the young redcloaks, before he drew his sword.

"Now!" he commanded. A couple of soldiers pulled the gate open, and suddenly the ram only hit empty air instead of wood. The attacking warriors were taken by surprise, when a torsion catapult fired from further in the castle along the hallway.

The gate, the interior of the cage, the ram and all around it were swallowed by the green flames, as the jars of wildfire exploded. For a few moments, the agonizing screams of the wounded were filling the air, only to be replaced by the smell of charred flesh.

Sansa coughed, as she tried to get air in her lungs. The explosion had thrown her backwards, and covered her with dust. Next to her, Bjorn was lying on the ground as well. Around them were small patches of burning wildfire, radiating hot enough to make them uncomfortable even from a distance.

"Fall back!" Bjorn yelled as he saw her looking at him. Frantically, she looked around and soon discovered the reason for the command. Lannister soldiers were making a sortie, killing off the surviving members of the group. Both got on their feet and returned to the siegeworks which had been erected a little away from the gate.

* * *

"Where's Daario Naharis?" Dany asked as they climbed over the barricade, panting heavily, still covered in dust and ash.

"He is probably dead", Sansa told her.

The mood among the commanders of the Targaryen army was bleak. They all had known that it was unlikely for them all to survive the war, but the death of Daario Naharis had shocked them all. Even though Sansa and Bjorn had not known him that long, they had both already learned to treasure his bravery, courage and fighting skills during the fall of the city of King's Landing.

"When do we attack again?" Daenerys asked, beginning their meeting.

"Tomorrow, I hope", Tyrion told the others, "They should not have the time to repair any damage done to the gate."

* * *

Ramsay Bolton, the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, was sitting at his table in the old castle. A usual, he preferred to eat his dinner alone.

He looked up when the castle's maester, Maester Helman, walked in. He had little need for the old man, but it was tradition for every castle to have one, and not even Ramsay Bolton could help it.

"What brings you to disturb my meal?" the lord asked.

"Mylord, we have received a raven from King's Landing", the maester replied, "Her Grace commands you to bring an army to their aid at once."

"Show me", Ramsay said coolly, extending the hand towards the maester. The old man placed the piece of parchment in his lord's hand, then retracted immediately.

Ramsay's face showed no emotions as he studied the message for what seemed like an eternity.

"Thank you, Maester Helman", Ramsay smiled, "I don't need you now anymore."

Glad to be able to finally avoid being in the same room as his lord, Maester Helman almost bolted out of the door. As soon as he was gone, Ramsay held the parchment against the burning candle. The flame licked hungrily at the material, and within a few moments, it turned into a small pile of ash.

"What do you say, Reek?" Ramsay smiled at the man standing in the corner of the room, "Shall we go help the Queen to get rid of her enemies?"

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 _A/N: So, the siege of the Red Keep is not going quite as planned - and Cersei is getting more like the Mad King with every day..._

 _I know that Daario Naharis was highly rated among those to be safe during the poll, but Grey Worm was even higher, and I felt that at least one of these two had to die._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	60. The Hand and the Finger

**60 The Hand and the Finger  
**

Sansa was standing behind the barricade, staring in the night. Not far from her, the walls of the Red Keep rose to the dark sky, and surely up on the battlements, there were archers waiting, happy to take her life, if they should have the chance.

Sansa's body tensed and her hand went to her sheathed sword, when a shadow ran from the moat to the barricade.

"My dear, you don't need that sword of yours", Varys smiled as he slipped behind the barricade next to her.

"Have you seen what you needed to see?" Sansa asked anxiously.

"I have", the spider replied.

"Then, is this secret entrance a way for us to get into the castle?" the shieldmaiden wanted to know.

"I am afraid, it is not", Varys shook his head, "It is not well known, but it is not necessarily secret. Anyone with the right wits is able to find it. Aside from that, it is a hard way for one alone, it would be nearly impossible to move a force large enough to get to the gates through without anyone noticing."

Sansa stayed silent for a moment. Gaining entrance into the castle through a secret passageway sounded too good to give up hope on the plan. After all, it had been nearly five weeks since they had taken the city of King's Landing, with only the Red Keep remaining in the hands of the Lannister forces.

* * *

The next day, Tyrion was sitting in his tent, studying a letter. The citizens of King's Landing, although now living in a warzone, needed government and administration. As Hand of Queen Daenerys, this was one of the many tasks he had to accomplish.

"Milord", someone said from the entrance of the tent. Tyrion looked up, only to see a frightened, little boy stand there.

"What is it, boy?" he asked, "Did Varys send you?"

The boy looked at him in slight fear, then handed him a piece of parchment and ran. Debating with himself for a moment, Tyrion finally snatched the note from the floor of the tent where it had fallen.

 _If you're interested in taking the castle, meet me at the place where you last saw your father. If you don't trust me, bring a mutual acquaintance of ours._

 _PB_

Tyrion kept staring at the parchment. Did it really say what he thought it said? Was it all a trick, trying to take his advice away from his Queen? And, most importantly, who had sent it?

Finally, assuming that he was willing and able to take the risk of sneaking into the Red Keep, into the Hand's chamber, who should he be taking with him? After all, a " _mutual_ acquaintance" had been specified, but how would he be able to choose his companion if he did not even know with whom he was about to meet?

Unable to answer all these questions by himself, he tucked the note in his pocket and left the tent, searching for Varys. He finally found the eunuch in one of the other tents, writing some document.

"Mylord Hand", Varys greeted him, "What brings you down here from the height of the power?"

"That was actually a new one", Tyrion snorted at the joke about him and height, "I've received a message."

"A message?" Varys asked, "It has to be a very special message that brings you to me. I thought you were able to read it by yourself."

"Oh I am", Tyrion assured me, "But I am conflicted as to what to make of it."

"May I see the message that actually managed to make Tyrion Lannister feel conflicted?" Varys asked. Tyrion's hand went into his pocket and pulled out the note, before handing it to the spider.

"The place where you saw your father last", Varys murmured, "A mutual acquaintance…. I guess that Littlefinger wants to talk to us."

"Littlefinger?!" Tyrion asked, "Why would he want to talk with us? And how would you know?"

"I am considering the fact that you killed your father in his toilet", Varys mused, "That means the place of the suggested meeting is the Tower of the Hand. And the current Hand is Littlefinger – which by the way also fits with the initials…"

"Alright, I can follow", Tyrion reflected, "But why us?"

"Do you know anyone else in this army that he knows personally?" Varys asked, "I didn't think so."

Varys words made sense, yet Tyrion could not shake the feeling that he was forgetting or overlooking something. Only when the eunuch turned back to his work, Tyrion realized that there was someone else that fit Littlefinger's requirements.

Tyrion walked through the camp, until he finally found who he was looking for.

"Sansa? Can I talk to you for a moment?" he asked.

"Sure", she smiled, while continuing to sharpen her axe with a stone.

"What would you think if I asked you to go into the Red Keep?" Tyrion wanted to know.

"We've been trying that for a while now", Sansa replied, "We're not getting through their defenses."

"I've received a message, saying that someone wanted to meet me in secrecy in the Tower of the Hand", Tyrion told her, "I was wondering if you'd be willing to go with me?"

"Tell me more", Sansa urged him.

"I believe it's Littlefinger, trying to save his own skin for the time when we finally breach the walls", Tyrion explained, "I suppose he wants to make some kind of deal for himself. He specifically asked for someone he knows to come with me. I think he thought of Varys, but I don't quite want to take him with me, but you would fit the criteria as well…"

Sansa thought for a moment, then nodded.

"I'll do it", she declared.

After nightfall, they snuck into the castle's defenses, the same way that Varys had gone in a couple of nights before. Stealthily, they entered the drainage system, and waded through the dirty water and the mud, until they finally reached the stairs. For an eternity they climbed, until they had gone far up in the Tower of the Hand.

"How do you know this way?" Sansa asked, as they stopped for a short while.

"I used it when I murdered my father", Tyrion told her, "Varys showed it to me, so Shae could visit me…"

"Shae?" Sansa asked, remembering her former handmaid.

"She was my lover back then", Tyrion explained, "She used to be a whore, but I brought her with me when I first came to King's Landing to serve as Hand instead of my father. But since it would not have been safe to have her with me openly, I had her placed as the handmaid of a certain noble young lady."

"What happened to her?" Sansa wanted to know.

"I killed her", Tyrion told her with sadness in his voice, "She betrayed me during my trial for Joffrey's murder. And the night I killed my father, I found her in his bed…"

"I'm sorry", Sansa replied. Tyrion nodded in agreement, then they carefully moved on. Finally, they reached the end of the tunnel. They slipped through a small hole in the wall hidden behind a curtain and were standing in the Hand's chamber.

* * *

Littlefinger was awaiting them in the solar. He was looking out of the windows, his back to them. He turned when he heard them enter the room.

"I am gratified that you took the time to talk with me", he said. Only then his eyes landed on Sansa.

"But I remember for certain that I asked you to bring someone we both know", he told Tyrion.

"I know, I brought someone we both know", Tyrion smiled, "If you wanted me to bring Varys then you should have said so."

"I am supposed to know you?" Petyr addressed Sansa.

"You do, but that is not that important", she smiled, "Say what you want to tell us."

Littlefinger frowned, feverishly trying to remember where he had seen the woman before. She was one of the northmen, so much was sure. He was sure he did not remember her, yet something seemed eerily familiar about her…

"I wanted to offer to help you in taking the Red Keep", he finally declared.

"That much I already understood from your message", Tyrion told him, "But how? And what would you want in return?"

"The first answer is easy", Littlefinger smiled, "I will simply open the gates for you."

"And I know you well enough to know that you don't do anything without a personal gain", Tyrion grinned, "What do you want in return?"

"Nothing except the gratifying feeling of doing the right thing", Littlefinger replied humbly, "And I expect to be left alive and free."

"You once told me that you were a better liar than I was", Sansa interrupted him, "So, I know you are lying right now. You would never give up the power of being the Hand, only for your life."

Littlefinger looked at her in surprise for a moment, then it dawned on him.

"Sansa Stark?!" he asked, finally recognizing the face underneath the scars and tattoos. Sansa nodded, leaving him still speechless.

"I thought you were dead since long", he finally muttered.

"Back to the topic at hand", Tyrion urged, "What is it that you want in exchange for the betrayal of my sister?"

"As always, I want power", Littlefinger smiled coldly.

"I am not going to bring an offer to my Queen, that includes you replacing me as Hand", Tyrion disagreed, "I am probably wasting my time here."

"I don't want to be Hand", Littlefinger elaborated, "I am Hand right now. You are not going to get inside any time soon, and as long as your sister is sitting on the Iron Throne, your Queen is nothing but a windbag. So, if all I'm getting is the power of being Hand, I will happily stay here."

"Then I don't understand what you want", Tyrion sighed.

"I want to gain…" Littlefinger explained, obviously annoyed that they had not figured it out yet, "I want to marry the Queen."

Sansa was acutely aware that both she and Tyrion were staring at Littlefinger with their mouths open. Now that he had actually spoken it out, it seemed like the most natural kind of demand a man like Lord Petyr Baelish could make. Yet, neither of them had even remotely thought of such a possibility.

"I believe we don't have the authority to make that kind of negotiations", Sansa finally told the others.

"We are going to bring the offer to Her Grace", Tyrion promised, "We will let you know her answer."

* * *

Dany sighed, then hid her face behind her hand, while wiping over her brow. She had barely believed it when Tyrion had first brought the message that someone on the inside was willing to help them to gain entrance into the Red Keep. Now that he had named his price, all that was left from her joy this day was a bitter aftertaste.

She did not want to marry again. After all, she had once already found her happiness with her sun-and-stars, Khal Drogo, and after his much too early death, she had been alone. Only Daario Naharis had been her lover for a while.

Thinking about him made her sad. It was not long ago that he had been killed, trying to storm the very gates of this castle. Although they had not shared a bed in a while, she certainly was saddened to know him dead.

She had been aware of the possibility that she needed to marry someone to form a strategic alliance, during her conquest of Westeros. Yet she had allowed herself to neglect the idea, always burying it in the back of her mind.

Now this Petyr Baelish, or _Littlefinger_ , as Tyrion, Varys and Sansa called him, had proposed himself to her. His offer was tempting, Dany could not deny that. So far, many great warriors had perished during the siege of the Red Keep, and yet they were hardly any closer to taking it. A betrayal from the inside of the Lannister court would definitely help her cause…

"Do you trust him?" she finally asked Tyrion, who was still sitting on the chair in her tent, waiting for an answer.

"I doubt that there is anyone in his right mind who would trust Lttlefinger", he laughed.

"So I shouldn't accept his offer?" Dany asked.

"I didn't say that", Tyrion interrupted her, "Ultimately, the decision is up to you. Littlefinger's ambition is well known, he began as a small Lord from the Fingers, then rose to Master of Coin under Robert Baratheon and subsequently Lord of Harrenhall. After the destruction of the Great Sept of Baelor, he somehow secured himself the position of the Hand. Being prince consort may be as high as he may possibly get, aside from being King in his own right."

"So you are unable to offer me advice on the matter?" Daenerys asked.

"Your Grace, I could advise you, but in the end, the ultimate decision is up to you", Tyrion replied politely. Dany closed her eyes for a moment, thinking all the possibilities through.

"Alright, I will do it", she finally declared.

* * *

The next night, Sansa was going through the tunnel again, headed for the Tower of the Hand. This time, she was alone, after all, the agreement was to be sealed, there was no need for another emissary to enter the lion's cave.

After walking through the tunnel and climbing up the stairs, she finally reached the end of the secret passage. After listing for any noises of unexpected visitors, she climbed out of the wall.

"Ah, you are here", Littlefinger greeted her as she stepped into the room.

"I am here", Sansa agreed, "I bring you a message from Queen Daenerys."

"And what message would that be?" Petyr asked her.

"She will accept your formal proposal, after you have managed to let our army through the gate of the Red Keep", Sansa explained.

"Good", Littlefinger smiled, "Then I shall do my best to make it happen within the next days. Let us drink to our agreement!"

"I don't want anything", Sansa refused.

"You won't let me drink alone, will you?" Petyr asked, "I insist on a small cup of wine."

"Very well", Sansa gave in, "But only very little."

Littlefinger busied himself with the glasses of wine for a moment, then handed her one.

"To our agreement", he toasted her.

"To the new prince consort of Westeros", Sansa returned the toast. She nipped on the wine, then took a second sip. She was really not used to wine any longer, she thought, she already felt the little sips rising to her head. She probably should have asked for ale…

Her glass fell from her fingers, shattering on the floor. Sansa's head felt dizzy, and she lost her balance. Her body fell to the ground and the last thing she felt before the darkness surrounded her was the shard of glass that was lying on the floor cut into her cheek as she fell on it.

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 _A/N: Well, did anyone see this coming? Littlefinger trying to betray both sides?_

 _I hope you liked the usual banter between Varys and Tyrion. I recently rewatched Season 2 and I noticed how much I missed it..._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	61. The Lion's roar

_A/N: This story just reached 40,000 views! I can't believe it - **Thank you everyone!**  
_

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 **61 The Lion's roar**

When Sansa awoke, she was surrounded by darkness. No matter how much she tried to see, the room was entirely unlit. Thoroughly, she tried to gather something about her situation. She was lying on the floor, her hands and feet shackled together, so that she could barely move an inch. Even rolling over proved impossible. Another metal ring encased her neck and seemed to be fastened to the floor in some way.

She could feel the ground underneath her, a floor of bricks. The air smelled humid and mossy, and occasionally a drip of water was falling from the ceiling to the floor.

Her cheek still hurt, the blood from the cut had left a little crust on her skin. It itched terribly, but Sansa was unable to do anything about it. In any case, it would only have started bleeding again if she scratched it.

* * *

"So, what happened?" Tyrion asked angrily. He was sitting across Littlefinger in the room in the Tower of the Hand, staring angrily at his counterpart.

"She brought me the good news that Her Grace had accepted my proposal", Littlefinger explained, "Then I was called away, and the two Kingsguards must have noticed that someone was there, because the next thing I know was that they stormed in and took her."

* * *

Cersei and her brother were lying in their bed in the royal chambers. They had just broken their embrace, both twins were still covered in sweat.

"I love you", Jaime whispered in his sister's ear.

"I know", Cersei smiled back at him. She got out of the bed and poured herself a glass of wine.

"I never thought she'd still be alive", Jaime stated.

"She won't be for much longer", Cersei assured him, "We can't very well execute Sansa while she is still unconscious. I am not _that_ cruel."

"So she is not going to get a trial?" Jaime wanted to know.

"She will have her trial", Cersei smiled viciously, "It will be short and decisive. And then she will be executed."

* * *

Sansa was starving. In her own estimation, she had spent more than two days now in her cell, unable to even flinch in the slightest. Her mouth had long gone dry and the rumbling of her stomach was the loudest sound in her cell.

Aside from that, she already stank. Unable to move, she had no other choice than to ignore the discomfort and disgust and just get rid of her bodily waste right in the position she was in.

* * *

Cersei looked along the throne room. Here the trial would find Sansa guilty. It was only a technicality, since she would be the judge herself. After all, the Queen of Westeros was the highest authority in the country.

The usual places for the spectators and courtiers would be seamed with redcloaks, the Kingsguard would stand next to the Iron Throne.

The accused herself would be standing in the middle of the room, chained to a ring in the ground. Cersei smiled to herself as she imagined the view.

* * *

Sansa shut her eyes, trying to keep out the blinding light of the torch. After days in absolute darkness, even the single torch burned as if she was looking straight into the sun. Two guards were entering her cell, then dragged her out, still in chains.

They unlocked her and replaced the shackles with a short chain, allowing her to walk on her own. As soon as she was done, she was dragged into the great throne room of the Red Keep.

Sansa quickly took in all her surroundings. She was surprised how well she actually remembered it. Cersei Lannister, the first of her name, Queen of the Andals and the first men, was sitting on the Iron Throne, up above the stairs in front of her. To her right, Sansa could see the Queen's brother, Ser Jaime the Kingslayer. Like his sister, his hair was turning grey by now, yet they both still looked healthy and attractive.

The rest of the Kingsguard in their white cloaks surrounded the Iron Throne, as if they feared that the chained-up Sansa somehow would manage to attack their Queen. Just next to them, Littlefinger was sitting on a small chair, the pin of the Hand displayed proudly on his chest.

To both sides of the throne room, nobles from all over the Seven Kingdoms crowded the galleries. Some were old enough to remember Joffrey's reign vividly, others had just found themselves wanting to get a look at the devils that were besieging them.

"Sansa Lannister, born of House Stark of Winterfell", Cersei finally addressed her, "You stand before this trial today as to find you guilty or innocent of the many crimes that you have been charged with."

Sansa stared at the Queen is disbelief. She could not believe that they had actually named her a Lannister! She was about to protest, but Cersei just continued her speech:

"You are charged with conspiring with your husband, Tyrion Lannister, to murder Joffrey Baratheon, First of his name, King of the Andals and the first men. Then you murdered him. You further attempted to murder Queen Margery of House Tyrell. Furthermore, you are accused of the murder of Dontos Hollard, the former knight, who in vain tried to stop you from fleeing the city after the murder on Joffrey."

Sansa was thinking she was dreaming. She had almost forgotten about Ser Dontos, the knight turned fool. The accusation of murdering him shocked her, after all he had helped her escape, although it was more true than the murder on Joffrey.

"You committed treason against the Iron Throne", Cersei added, "You are in open rebellion against the crown, you have attacked King's Landing with an army, slaying many of this court's nobles in the process. Among the slain are: Ser Walder, of house Frey, Ser Damon Payne, Ser Timmet Hill, of Red Lake, Ser Edwin Rivers, Baldwin Lannister, a cousin of mine, Roderick Frey, a squire to him, Lady Jeyne Hightower, Lady Florence Hill, Lady Ysolda Selmy, Maester Cleos, Robert Haymaker, Lord Commander of the City Watch, Willas Longnose, his deputy, and uncounted more of the citizens of this city. You entered the Red Keep in secrecy, attempting to murder Lord Petyr Baelish, the Hand of the Queen."

Sansa flinched inwardly as she listened to the accusations. Each single one would mean her death, and with that number of charges, she could get lucky with one or two, but she was being found guilty anyway.

Of course, Sansa had no illusions about her chances of surviving, as soon as she had seen Cersei presiding over the trial herself. And of course the Queen would make sure that Sansa was found guilty in every single case.

"Sansa Lannister, what do you say to these charges made against you?" Cersei addressed her.

"I am not guilty, Your Grace", Sansa declared loudly. A chorus of "Liar!" filled the room. The nobles on the galleries were protesting loudly against her.

"You deny all these accusations?" Cersei wanted to know.

"I do, Your Grace", Sansa replied with her back straight. She kept thinking feverishly. Should she give away Littlefinger's part in the murder of Joffrey, even at the risk of losing the only one who at least partially might be an ally? Or should she lie, keep the secret, and most likely be found guilty? She only had one real choice, though…

"Although I would have had good reason to kill Joffrey, I didn't do it", she explained, "I ran because I feared I might be wrongly suspected."

"And you killed Ser Dontos?" Jamie Lannister asked.

"I killed him in self-defense, Lord Commander", Sansa told him, "He was the one to administer the poison, and then tried to stop me so he would be restored in knight's honor."

"And will you deny that you are in open rebellion against your Queen?" Grand Maester Qyburn asked.

"I don't consider myself subject to the Iron throne anymore", Sansa declared proudly, "I found a country where I was welcome, and where I intend to stay…"

"Then why did you attack Westeros?" Cersei spat, "If you don't consider yourself subject to this country anymore, why are you here?"

"I am here because I made a deal with the one who should be sitting on the Iron Throne, the rightful Queen of Westeros, Daenerys Targaryen", Sansa shouted. Everyone in the room gasped audibly, the Queen looked as if someone had slapped her in the face.

"And that is why you are guilty of treason!" Cersei raged.

"So this court is going to find me guilty whatever I say, am I right?" Sansa asked sarcastically, "If it is like this, I demand a trial by combat!"

For a moment, no one spoke in the throne room. Then whispering began to fill the galleries, the nobles discussing among themselves what that meant.

"Very well", Cersei replied with a cruel smile on her lips, "I name Ser Gregor Clegane as Champion for the crown. Is there any volunteer to fight for this poor little girl?"

Cersei looked through the room. Suddenly, every nobleman or knight tried to look as unimportant as possible. Ser Bronn of the Blackwater was standing near the stairs to the gallery, watching the woman in chains.

"No one?" Cersei asked with a mocking pity in her voice, "I am afraid you will have to fight the Mountain yourself."

A number of pitiful glances fell at Sansa, no one in the room who thought highly of her chance to overcome the famous silent knight of the Kingsguard. But there was something else. Cersei was too far away to see it. Bronn wasn't. He noticed the hint of a smile on Sansa's lips.

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 _A/N: Well, let's hope Sansa is not over-confident in her skills as a fighter..._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	62. Climbing the Mountain

**62 Climbing the mountain**

Sansa was sitting in her cell, awaiting the day of her duel against the Mountain. She had been told it may well take a couple of days to prepare for the occasion, and surely she wouldn't mind living for another day or two, would she?

In consequence, she was surprised when she had a visitor, aside from the guards who brought her food. The door opened and Ser Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer entered.

"Is it the day?" she asked.

"No, I don't think so", Jamie replied, "I've just come to talk with you."

"About what?" Sansa wanted to know, "How I killed your son?"

"Honestly, I don't think you did", Jamie smiled, "But I think you know who did. And don't tell me it was Ser Dontos, the fool."

"It was him, and two more members of the court", Sansa replied hesitantly.

"Who?" Jamie kept pressing, "I don't want you to be found guilty unnecessarily, and I won't allow the culprit to escape once more."

"Promise me, you won't do anything before the fight is over", Sansa pleaded, "Two of the three are dead already anyway."

"You really are _eager_ to fight the Mountain?!" the Kingslayer asked in shock, "You are never going to make it out alive…"

"Why would I want to make it out alive?" the shieldmaiden smiled, "In the country I live in, the highest honor one can achieve is dying in battle – I have imagined the day in my dreams for years. Besides, I wouldn't be betting on the Mountain, if I were you…"

"You think you can take him on?" Jamie doubted, "He already killed the Red Viper of Dorne, and ever since Grand Maester Qyburn did his bloodmagic on him, he cannot be killed."

"We shall soon enough see about that", Sansa grinned, "Now, what about the promise?"

"Very well", Jamie replied, "I promise, I won't get in the way of your fight."

"It was Oleanna Tyrell who administered the poison", Sansa told him, "And Littlefinger helped her by providing it."

"Littlefinger?!" Jamie raged, "I am going to flay that son of a whore alive…"

"Don't forget, you promised", Sansa reminded him, "Once the fight is over, do with him whatever you want, but not before."

* * *

Bjorn was sitting in his tent, looking at the envoy from the Red Keep. A warrior, he decided, and one who wasn't above playing dirty.

"What exactly happened?" Bjorn asked.

"Your sister has asked for a trial by combat", Bronn told him, "And she will need her weapons."

"What exactly does she need?" Tyrion asked, standing in the entrance of the tent.

"She said, she needed her shield, her sword and axe", Bronn replied. Bjorn and Tyrion exchanged a look, arguing with themselves whether this was truly Sansa's demand or if this was all a trick. Finally Bjorn handed over the weapons which Bronn took.

"I hope she knows what she's doing", Bjorn said as the Westerosi knight left the tent.

* * *

Finally, the day of the combat had come. Even though the castle was besieged, everyone who was able find an excuse to attend this spectacle had found his or her way away from the battlements and into the great courtyard.

Queen Cersei was sitting on her podium, overlooking the makeshift arena. The place next to her, where usually Ser Gregor Clegane was standing by her side was empty. Instead, the big knight was being prepared in the fighting pit.

Even more unusual, Ser Jaime Lannister was missing as well. The Queen's brother was nowhere to be seen, even more astounding since it was ultimately his responsibility to guard the Queen.

Littlefinger was nowhere to be seen either. The Hand of the Queen had made a short appearance when everyone was taking their seats, then had disappeared.

The spectators were already getting unsettled, when finally the guards dragged in the prisoner. Sansa was still shackled by her wrists and ankles, but the guards quickly worked on releasing her.

* * *

In the meantime, Littlefinger was approaching the big gate of the Red Keep. This was the perfect time to open it, keeping his promise to the Targaryen Queen, his bride-to-be. Yet he would need to wait a little longer, until Sansa Stark was dead. He did not even want to imagine the wrath once she told the others about his trap for her.

Sansa was released from her bonds, and stretched her arms for a while. She flexed her muscles and took a deep breath.

"I come to you, Odin", she whispered, "Give me strength, so you may find my death pleasing."

She needed something else for her own little rite, blood. She thought for a moment about asking the guards for some pig's blood, but then decided against it. She just grabbed the dagger and swiftly cut into one of her earlobes. A little blood spilled out, and Sansa smeared it carefully in the braids along her temples.

Finally, she belted the sword and took up the shield and axe, making a little practice swing. Satisfied, she stepped forward.

Looking at her opponent, she realized his size for the first time. She had known that the Mountain was enormous, but she had still underestimated him. She raised her shield and axe, then stepped forward carefully.

Cersei smiled to herself when she watched Sansa hesitate. Doubtless, the other woman was wondering if demanding a trial by combat had been a good idea.

* * *

Littlefinger decided that the time had come. Slipping into the corridor, he made his way to the gate.

"Are you not going to watch the fight?" a redcloak standing guard asked him.

"I don't care much for her blood", Littlefinger answered, "More about yours."

He stabbed his dagger in the guard's throat, before pressing his hand on his mouth to silence the dying man's scream. He let the body slide to the floor and opened the gate.

* * *

Sansa watched as the Mountain just stood there, waiting for her to attack. Carefully, she took a step to the side, keeping her distance to her opponent. Two more steps and she was where she wanted to be.

The Mountain turned to her, everyone was still waiting for the two opponents to clash. Both were waiting for the other to make the first move.

Sansa raised her axe, felt the balance of it, then charged. The Mountain's sword came down on her, but she dropped her weight and dodged the blade. At exactly the right spot, she let her axe fly and watched as it buried itself in exactly the spot where she had intended it to be.

The crowd let out a shocked wail, as Queen Cersei collapsed on her chair, her head a mess of blood, bones and brain. Sansa's axe had split her skull right down to the neck. The shieldmaiden pulled her sword from its sheath and faced the mountain.

She charged at the armored knight, her sword raised high. She let the weapon rotate in her wrist, hitting her opponent only on the upper arm instead of the neck where she had aimed. Obviously, the mountain was just too tall for her.

She was being hit in her side by his arm, and Sansa flew a few feet through the air. She managed to land on her feet and began her next attack. Her shield dented the armor, and her blade scratched over the Mountain's skin, yet he managed to swing his sword at her. The heavy blade made her shield boss ring, and her wrist ache.

* * *

Bjorn looked up when he saw the Red Keep's gate open. He was manning the barricades with the others, and the opened gates were an invitation.

"Grab your weapons!" he commanded. All around him, the warriors took their shields and swords, axes and spears, and advanced carefully to the gate.

Inside the castle, it was an eerie silence. No one was in sight, no one could be heard. Fearing a trap, Bjorn let the men halt, then they began to move forward cautiously.

* * *

"Littlefinger!" Ser Jaime Lannister shouted, as he saw the other man in an empty corridor.

"Ser Jaime", Littlefinger bowed, "What an honor."

"I need to talk to you", the Kingslayer said.

"What about?" Petyr wanted to know.

"About someone accusing you of murdering Joffrey", Jamie whispered, watching the other man's face carefully. Littlefinger almost succeeded in hiding his surprise, but for a moment, the shock was visible in his eyes.

"I don't know what you are talking about", he denied.

"You may be an even better liar than me", Jaime grinned, "But right now, you can't fool me. You killed my son."

Littlefinger paled, as the knight's remaining hand went to the hilt of his sword. For a moment, Jaime hesitated, then cut the Hand of the Queen down with a swift strike. Wiping the blood from the blade on Littlefinger's robe, he stepped over the body and walked towards the fighting pit.

* * *

Sansa ducked a wild swing of the Mountain's sword, then tried to punch her own blade through his armor once more. The sword glanced off, and she was forced back to avoid being cut in half. She was too slow this time however, and a scream escaped her throat, as the Mountain's blade cut into her shoulder.

Sansa had to drop her sword from her wounded arm and staggered back. Taking in her situation she took a deep breath and charged, punching the rim of her shield against her opponent's helmet. The wood splintered as it made contact with the metal, yet she retracted and punched once more with all her strength.

Screams filled the ranks of the spectators, as the Northmen reached the courtyard. The warriors mixed with the nobles, cutting down who tried to resist and herded the others together.

Sansa watched her opponent, she was sure he would try and kill her, if he had the chance. Bjorn jumped into the fighting pit, hurling an axe at the Mountain, trying to help his sister. The axe bit into the Mountain's flesh, but he did not go down.

He barely seemed to notice it. Instead, the Mountain charged at the siblings, and they dispersed. The Mountain's sword hit the floor where they had just been standing, and someone tossed a spear into the arena. Bjorn leaped to it, and thrusted it at the Mountain's throat.

Blood spurted out of the wound, as the tip of the spear bit into the knight's flesh. Gurgling on the blood he still kept going, ripping his throat open even more. Sansa jumped to Bjorn's aid, together they were holding the spear.

Finally, the Mountain collapsed to his knees, the spear still stuck in his throat. Both Sansa and Bjorn looked at him in amazement, unable to comprehend how anyone could survive this long after such a wound. After a moment of hesitation, Bjorn stepped forward and drew his sword. He hacked at the Mountain's neck with a wild swing, and with two blows severed it. The Mountain's blood made a puddle on the floor, as the giant fell to the ground.

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 _A/N: To be honest, I never saw the need for Sansa to actually kill the Mountain - he was just in the way of getting to Cersei..._

 _I hope you liked this one and don't forget to review!_


	63. Ador finaan khal nevasoe che khaleesi

_A/N: This chapter's title is a quote from Season 1 of Game of Thrones, meaning "_ _A chair for a king to sit upon...or a queen"..._

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 **63** **Ador finaan khal nevasoe... che khaleesi**

The fighting in the Red Keep had died down. Most of the Lannister men-at-arms had thrown away their weaponry and surrendered. The floors were slick with blood, but now that it grew old, it became stickier.

Dany took a deep breath as she stood outside the throne room. This was it, the moment for which she had been striving her entire life. The thought was somehow unsettling. Calm down, she told herself, you have nothing to fear. Hesitantly, she pushed the door open and entered the room.

The crowd parted, allowing the new Queen to approach the Iron Throne. The Lannister loyalists were standing in the middle, surrounded by the members of the Targaryen army. Most of them looked insecure, hoping that their new ruler would show mercy on them.

Dany stepped forward, acutely aware that every set of eyes in the room was following her. Finally, she reached the stairs underneath the Iron Throne. On the top, Tyrion was already awaiting her.

"Take your rightful place, my Queen", he said with a bow. When Dany reached the top of the stairs, she turned to face the room, then sat down on the Throne.

"In the light of the Seven, I proclaim Daenerys of house Targaryen, first of her name, breaker of chains, Queen of the Andals and the first men and protector of the Seven Kingdoms!" Tyrion announced, "Long may she reign!"

"Long may she reign!" the nobles in the throne room chorused. One after the other, they stepped forward and swore their allegiance to the new Queen.

* * *

Ser Jaime Lannister, nicknamed the Kingslayer, was sitting in the cell where only a few days ago, he had visited Sansa Stark. Strange, how it all could turn around so quickly. He had been surprised to hear that she was not afraid to die, and he had not entirely believed her, but now, the prospect of joining Cersei and their children in death was not unwelcome.

* * *

"What am I to do with the murderer of my father?" Dany asked, taking a sip of wine from her glass. Tyrion looked at her over the meal.

"Normally, I would ask you to spare my brother", he began, "But I doubt that you would be willing to accept this, and I don't even know if he would want it."

"He wouldn't want to have his live saved?" Dany asked in surprise.

"I don't know", Tyrion replied, "I know that he loved my bitch of a sister, and their children. All of them are dead, I have no idea how he feels."

"We will give him a trial", Dany decided after a moment of thought, "It's his right after all."

* * *

In the North, the Lord of Winterfell was sitting at the fire in his chambers. In his hands, he was holding the scroll, informing him of the sacking of King's Landing and the fall of the Red Keep. Furthermore, he had been asked to come to the Capital to affirm his loyalty to the Iron Throne.

Ramsay Bolton grunted. His loyalty, how dare they ask for it? After all, he had been in Westeros his whole life, and ruled in his own right for years, ever since he had killed his father.

"Reek!" he called out. The unusual servant entered the room.

"Reek, go tell Maester Helman to send out messages to my bannermen", Ramsay ordered, "I will not submit to the Mad King's daughter."

* * *

"You've sent for me, your Lordship?" Bronn asked as he entered the Tower of the Hand. Tyrion looked up from his desk, and gave his old friend a smile.

"I have", he grinned, "I was wondering how you'd fared since we've last seen each other."

"Not that bad", Bronn shrugged, "I was poisoned in Dorne, and spent the rest of the war fighting battles with your brother."

"And after the war?" Tyrion wanted to know.

"Well, I am a Lord as well", Bronn laughed, "I spent most of my time looking after my castle."

"The one you've sold me out for", Tyrion muttered.

"And how is your wife?" Bronn inquired.

"My wife?" Tyrion wondered, "I have no wife."

"The Stark-girl?" Bronn hinted, "Last time I checked, you were married to her. I was actually surprised to see her here."

"We are not married", Tyrion assured him, "I could not do that to her."

"If you say so", Bronn doubted.

* * *

Sansa and Dany were sitting together in the Queen's chambers, chatting about the next actions to secure the new ruler's reign.

"Gods help us!" Dany exclaimed as she opened a letter lying on her desk.

"What is it?" Sansa queried.

"I have just received word from Winterfell", Dany explained, "Ramsay Bolton refuses to submit to the Iron Throne and has called for his bannermen. You said, you were born in Winterfell, didn't you?"

"Yes", Sansa carefully replied.

"I suppose, there is no other way than taking the castle", Dany mused, "I will need your knowledge to do this. And in return I shall give it to you again."

"I don't even know whether I want it or not", Sansa sighed, "I was born there, but for most of my life, my home has been somewhere else."

"You don't want to return there?" Dany asked in surprise.

"I don't know", Sansa admitted, "I never really thought about it."

* * *

It had been two months after the fall of the Red Keep. The Targaryen army was now camped near Winterfell, laying siege to the castle.

Their worst adversary was the weather. Now that the winter had arrived, the snow had reached chest-height, and only inside the camp, there had been paths cleared between the tents.

"I never thought I would be so cold", Tyrion muttered. Sansa was sitting next to him, covered in her fur-lined cloak.

"You are just not used to it", she teased him, "Damn southerners…"

* * *

"They are still freezing out there", Ramsay Bolton laughed, "Reek, do you think they will ever be able to take the castle?"

"No Mylord", the man who had once been Theon Greyjoy replied, "They will freeze to death out there."

Both of them looked up, as the storm outside was whirling around the castle. Wind pulled on the roofs and made whistling sounds at the windows.

"What was that?" Ramsay suddenly asked.

"What was what, mylord?" Reek wanted to know.

"There was a sound", Ramsay explained, "It sounded like something flapping…"

* * *

Outside the castle, the three large dragons came down from the sky, their wings spread wide. On a command of the rider, one of them began to spit fire, and the other two immediately followed.

Ramsay Bolton looked at the wall, unable to understand why the stone wall in front of him was beginning to melt. He could feel the heat radiating from the wall, even from the distance already singing his eyebrows. The last thing he saw was Reek, then they were both swallowed by the fire slamming into the interior of Winterfell's Keep.

* * *

After the destruction of Winterfell, the army had returned to King's Landing. There was still the issue of how to deal with the Kingslayer. So, on one morning, Daenerys herself visited her father's murder in his cell.

"Daenerys of house Targaryen, first of her name…" Jaime smiled when she opened the door, "I was wondering if you were planning on letting me die of boredom in here."

"No, I am not", Dany smiled, "I know why you killed my father, and I am not even sure that he didn't deserve it. Yet I can't let you live – I'm sorry."

"No need to be sorry", Jaime replied.

"I was thinking, perhaps the way, most agreeable to everyone is for you to do it yourself", Dany hinted.

"I agree", Jamie answered, "I don't mind dying anymore, but with my bare hands, it is probably not easy to do."

"I know", Dany gave him a small smile, "That's why I've asked Sansa to come with me."

Sansa entered the cell from outside where she had been waiting. She drew her dagger from its sheath and placed it on the ground in front of Jamie.

"Good luck!" she said to the one-handed knight. Jamie swallowed, then tried to speak, but was unable to gather any words. Sansa and Dany turned around and left the cell.

"Have you given any thought to my proposal?" Dany asked, as they closed the door to the cell behind them.

"What proposal?" Sansa asked, although she already suspected the topic.

"When I proposed to make you Lady of Winterfell", Dany reiterated, "Place you in charge of the reconstruction of the castle…"

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 _A/N: So this is it – the end. Or at least most likely…_

 _I want to thank everyone who reviewed, favorited or followed this story, and everyone who kept reading._ _ **Thank you! I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing and imagining it.**_

 _Now, to the next topic, you probably noticed that the end isn't quite full. I am unsure whether Sansa should stay in Westeros or return to Kattegat. I will leave that decision to you, I have created a poll on my profile for this question (I will give you four weeks to decide, so please don't forget to vote!)_

 _If she stays I will write an epilogue of sorts, if she returns, I still have some ideas how I could fit her in with the recent seasons on Vikings. Admittedly, this is less of a crossover then, but more of a "Sansa the Viking" story. Just to keep the choices for the poll equal (otherwise probably everyone would vote for Westeros), I will make one constraint: If Sansa stays in Westeros, she will not see her children again, it is impossible for her to have them brought to this new country._

 _Finally, I hope you liked it how it all played out. Don't forget to vote, and don't forget to review!_


	64. The hero's rest

**64 The hero's rest**

The Red Keep was no longer red. Of course it still was, only it didn't look that way anymore. Snow had covered the whole of the city, and the pyres inside were burning high, in order to keep the people warm.

The royal chambers were no different. The group of most important men and women had assembled for a private meeting, all were now lounging throughout the room.

"I never thought it could be this cold", Missandei told the others, "Was it like this when you were in the north?"

"It was far colder, my dear", Tyrion explained, "Here we have the walls, we have a fire – it is as good as it is going to get…"

"Sansa, you said you were thinking about my proposal", Daenerys reminded her, "Have you made your decision?"

Sansa gulped for a moment, then looked at all the faces in the room.

"I have, Your Grace", she finally replied, "I will not stay in Westeros, my home is somewhere else now. I shall return with my brother."

* * *

The next few weeks were spent in a frenzy of activity. The Northmen worked hard to prepare their ships for the long voyage home. Many of the ships needed a bit of repairs, and aside from that, lots of supplies had to be gathered and loaded.

Finally, after what had seemed an eternity of preparation to Sansa, the day of departure had come. The Vikings boarded their ships and said their goodbyes.

"I can't believe you're actually leaving", Tyrion muttered as he said his goodbyes to Sansa, "I always thought, if you ever had the chance of being the Lady of Winterfell, you would never pass up this chance."

"Things have changed", Sansa shrugged, "And Winterfell is now no less a ruin than Harrenhall. There's nothing for me there…"

Tyrion nodded in agreement, while Sansa finally boarded the ship. She waved her hand and the ones left in King's Landing returned their greeting.

"Cast away!" Bjorn ordered. Oars were used to push the boats off the pier then the Vikings rowed them towards the open water. A little further out on the blackwater, the crews set sail and finally got underway.

"By all the gods", Sansa muttered as she was standing on the helm with Bjorn sitting next to her, "I've missed being on the sea…"

* * *

The journey was as uneventful as the travelling towards Westeros. For weeks, the fleet moved to the east, the coast of Essos just about visible over the horizon. Even though they now knew how long it took, every time they rounded a peninsula, everyone in the ships hoped they had finally reached the edge of the continent.

Finally, they reached the point where the land stretched north, further than even the sharpest eyes could see.

"This has to be the end", Bjorn muttered, "When we first came to Essos, we must have passed somewhere around here."

"Then it is time to head east over the open sea", Sansa nodded, "The wind is good, let's hope it holds."

Strong winds filled the sails of the Viking ships, as they steered away from the land. Sansa was standing on the helm, watching the shoreline disappear behind the horizon. What was left of the fleet rode over the wave, and within a few days reached the Frankish coast.

They stopped for a day. The northmen went ashore and refilled their barrels of water, then they headed north. Carefully, they bypassed Rollo's settlement in northern Frankia, and finally, the familiar shapes of Kattegat came into sight. Sansa, Bjorn and their crews went ashore and were greeted joyfully by their people.

"We feared you were all dead", Aslaug told them, as she hugged Sansa. All around them, the warriors were reunited with their families.

Finally, Aslaug released Sansa from the hug, and two little girls came forward. It took Sansa a moment to recognize them as her own daughters, so much had they grown. Instead of the little girls, they were already grown a lot taller.

"I've missed you so much!" Sansa told them, as she closed her arms around them in a tight embrace.

"Mom, you're squeezing too hard!" either Gyda or Arya exclaimed teasingly. For a moment, Sansa laughed, then hugged them even tighter until both girls were squealing and laughing. Finally, she put them back down on the ground.

"So, did you find the Mediterranean sea?" one of the girls asked, eager to hear of their mother's adventures.

"Well, no", Sansa told them, "But we found something else. And I've seen real dragons…"

"Dragons?" the one girl asked before turning to her sister, "Arya, can you believe that?"

"Real dragons?" Arya questioned, "How were they?"

"Let's get inside and I will tell you all about them", Sansa smiled, "Come on, girls…"

* * *

The night had fallen over Kattegat and it had begun to rain lightly. Plunder and gear had been loaded off the ships and brought into the great hall, and the returned inhabitants were enjoying a well-deserved feast.

"You wanted to tell us about the dragons!" Gyda remembered.

"Did you really see them?" Arya asked eagerly. For a change, both twins had been allowed to stay up long past their usual bedtime, and the tiredness was beginning to show.

"We did see them", Sansa began the tale, "They belong to the Queen of a faraway country. It's called Westeros."

"That's a funny name", Arya declared.

"I know", Sansa grinned, "It's called like this, because it is the furthest country in the west. In any case, the Queen had been in exile and we met her on our way to the west."

"So she wasn't in Westeros?" Gyda wanted to know.

"No, she wasn't, when we met her", Sansa explained, "She was fighting a war against the ones who had stolen the throne from her. And when we met her, we decided to help her. And so we brought her army on our ships and sailed to Westeros. We fought a huge battle for the largest city that country has. I think it's even bigger than Paris…"

"And what happened then?" Arya urged her mother to continue.

"I killed the one who had stolen the throne", Sansa told her, "Split her skull right down with my axe. And then we made peace and the good queen is ruling again. And what happened afterwards is a story for another evening."

"Oh, please!" the girls pleaded.

"I will tell you tomorrow", Sansa said firmly, "Now it is time for the two of you to go to sleep!"

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 _A/N: I realize it took me much longer than I had promised to get this up – in fact it took me much longer than I had imagined to get back into this story. I hope it will get better, but be warned, there might be a couple of fillers ahead until I'm back to my usual form. Also, from now on, by almost unanimous wish, I am continuing, but since the war in Westeros is over, there will be very little (if any) GoT content. So it's basically "Sansa the Viking"…_

 _In any case, I hope you liked it and don't forget to review!_


	65. Winter has come

**65 Winter has come**

The smoke from the hearth was lingering in the great hall. Even though the air was thick and used, the people stood there huddled together around the fire, trying to keep warm.

"I never would have thought I'd miss the summer so much", Sansa muttered, while she was rubbing her hands together.

"I always thought you like winter", Bjorn teased her. Sansa playfully punched him in the shoulder.

"I don't mind winter", she insisted, "But this one is harsher than the last ones."

* * *

Outside, the snowflakes were falling thickly, covering the shingles on the roofs of the buildings in and around Kattegat. The only ones enjoying it were the small children, who were running around freely, playing in the snow.

"Arya, stop it!" Gyda yelled, as her sister's snowball struck her in the face. She stormed forward and shoved the other girl into a hill of snow near the road.

"Stop it!" it was now Arya's turn to plead as her sister began to tickle her. Gyda just gleefully continued until finally both of them fell into the snow, utterly exhausted.

* * *

Whenever they found the time, Sansa, Bjorn and the other warriors spent their time exercising with their weapons. Even though during the short days, they all preferred to stay inside, every couple of days groups of them could be seen sparring on the beach.

One of these days, Sansa and Bjorn had teamed up. The snow was lying ankle deep, and both of them were shivering in their chainmail, as they circled each other. Bjorn stepped forward, bringing his axe down. Sansa blocked the blow with her shield and tried to stab at her brother with her sword.

Bjorn dodged effortlessly, punching his own shield forward. The iron rim hit Sansa in the side, sending her stumbling a few steps away. She tripped over a stone hidden by the snow and fell to the ground. Within a moment, Bjorn was over her, his axe ready for a deadly strike. Sansa swung her sword hitting Bjorn in the calf and she rolled away from him, before struggling to her feet. Annoyed, she spit out a bit of the powdery sow she had gotten in her mouth during the fall.

Sansa kept watching Bjorn, who was now approaching her once again. She sent her blade in a wild chop, and Bjorn raised his shield to parry. Only in the last moment, Sansa twisted her wrist, causing the cut to change its direction. Bjorn was caught unaware, but managed to just get his axe in the way, before Sansa was able to land a decisive blow.

The Viking warrior retaliated by punching his shield forward, the boss crashing into Sansa's shield. She deflected the blow and stabbed her sword forward, aimed at her brother's face. Bjorn managed to duck and Sansa followed with a wild chop, aimed once again at his head. She raised her shield and heard the sound of Bjorn's axe scratching over the wood, before she used her leg to kick forward. Sansa's foot connected with Bjorn's shin, causing him to lose his balance.

Sansa stood over her brother who was lying in the snow. She struck him again, this time with her shield, simulating to crush his head between the iron rim and the frozen ground.

"You win", Bjorn grinned, as she sent him a challenging glance.

"Thank you, brother", Sansa grinned, as she extended her hand. Bjorn took it and Sansa pulled him up.

"Are you alright?" she asked him.

"I'm fine", Bjorn replied, while he wiped the snow from his clothes. Both were still panting heavily, the breath forming small clouds in front of their mouths. Together, they sat down at the edge of their sparring area, and Sansa took the canteen of ale they had brought with them.

"Do we try and get to the Mediterranean Sea next year?" Bjorn wanted to know. For a moment, Sansa needed to think about her answer.

"I don't think I will be going anywhere this coming year", she finally told Bjorn, "We spent the last two years fighting a war somewhere else. I thought I would never make it home alive… I don't think I'm ready to leave here so soon."

"Well, if it was purely my decision, I would want to try again", Bjorn mused, "But perhaps you are right. We've been gone long enough…"

"So we're both staying in home, enjoying our time?" Sansa rephrased, "We can all use the rest, I suppose."

"Definitely", Bjorn sighed.

* * *

Later that evening, Sansa was sitting in a hot bath, soothing her bruises and strained muscles. She didn't mind the cuts and scratches, the black eye or the bloody nose. When she had been a girl and had been hurt publicly in Joffrey's court, it had been much worse. Here it was almost harmless, in fact she had enjoyed the fight, although she had cursed herself later this evening when she felt the strain.

The steam was still rising from the hot water, filling the back room. Sansa took a deep breath, savoring the smell of the scented water, mixed with the sweat glistening on her forehead. Tired, she closed her eyes for a moment and slid under the surface of the water. After a few moments, the shieldmaiden came back up, splashing some of the water over the wooden floor.

* * *

The wind was howling through the streets of Kattegat. The icy breeze forced both men and animals inside. Windows were shaking, and the wind was tearing on the shingles of the roofs, trying to rip them off.

Nevertheless, there was someone outside. The figure was wrapped in a thick cloak, the hood pulled over the head. The figure walked with great difficulty against the wind, looking for what he had come here.

* * *

"It is time to get out", Sansa thought. She was beginning to feel light-headed from the intense heat. Still she did not begin to move, still enjoying every moment of her hot bath. From behind the wall, she could hear the others in the great hall, talking, eating and laughing.

She realized she should be getting out, as the room around her began to turn. She tried to heave herself out of the tub, but she had no strength in her fingers. Sansa fell back into the tub, as the world turned black before her eyes.

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 _A/N: Admittedly, a bit shorter than originally intended, nevertheless I hope you liked it. Will Sansa be alright? What do you think?_

 _Don't forget to review!_


	66. Howling Wolves

**66 Howling wolves**

The seer looked up as someone entered the hut. His blind eyes were directed to the intruder, and he smiled silently.

"You've come back", he greeted the man.

"So it seems", the other one smiled, "But I'm not staying for long."

"Then why have you come?" the seer wanted to know.

"I've come to ask you what the future holds", the stranger replied, "For me, my children, and the ones of my family who hate me…"

"Well, Rollo, I can tell you that both wolves will be friends in times of need", the seer sighed, "The wars to come will bring chaos, destruction and grief, and it will be your brother who causes it – yet he himself will suffer the most."

"What about my children?" Rollo wondered, "What is to come of them?"

"The gods haven't decided what is to become of them", the seer laughed, "They will have their way in this world… and they will have to find it."

* * *

Sansa grunted from the sudden pain and her eyes fluttered open. She was lying next to the bathtub, on the ground. Her daughters were kneeling next to her.

"What happened?" she asked.

"You were in here so long, we were wondering where you went", Arya explained, "And we found you like this…"

Sansa gave them both a weak smile, then sat up. Her shoulder and right arm hurt badly, and a throbbing headache prevented her from thinking entirely clearly. Slowly, she began to speculate about what had happened. She must have slipped on the wet floor, she thought, and injured herself during the fall.

"Get Floki, if he's here", Sansa told the girls, "And Uncle Bjorn."

Both girl quickly ran into the main room to look for the ones her mother had told them to bring. In the meantime, Sansa quickly wrapped herself in a blanket. She didn't have to wait long, and help arrived.

"What happened?" Bjorn wanted to know, as he sat down next to his adopted sister.

"I must have fallen", Sansa told him, "I probably slipped on the water. My arm doesn't feel too good, though."

"Let me see", Floki urged her. Sansa turned slightly and revealed her injured arm. The boatbuilder's fingers felt over her skin and muscles, and Sansa gasped as a sudden pain surged through her arm. She gritted her teeth in pain, as Floki began twisting and pulling on her arm, making the pain even worse.

"Stop it!" she yelled finally.

"Just a little further", Floki tried to calm her. Sansa was about to protest, as suddenly the pain in her arm subsided.

"I've done what I could", he told Sansa, "We will have to see if this is enough to heal your arm."

"How did you do that?" Sansa queried, "Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me", Floki waved off, "I'm just glad I could help."

* * *

Rollo was walking through the town, along the deserted streets. At first light of morning was already beginning to dawn over the horizon. Maybe this whole trip had been foolhardy from the beginning. What had he been thinking, that talking to his old gods was going to give him an idea of the future? Now that he had rejected them and become a Christian?

Furthermore, he was all too aware that he was likely entirely unwelcome here, should he be discovered. Most of the inhabitants of Kattegat surely had not forgiven him for murdering the ones who had stayed behind with him in Frankia, nor the fact that he had fought against the Northmen to defend Paris.

Fortunately, the icy wind was still howling all over the town, forcing everyone inside. He sighed with relief, as he reached the edge of the town, where he had left his horse. He quickly climbed up into the saddle and rode away in the darkness. Towards home.

* * *

The water was dripping from the shingles on the roof, accumulating in puddles all over the ground. The snow that had covered the streets was melting, turning the whole of the town to mud. The rain was still cold, the water still remembering the winter that had just passed.

As Sansa was sitting on the small balcony of the great hall, overlooking the empty and sodden main square, she finally made the decision she had been putting off for weeks. Taking a deep breath, she entered the great hall and walked through until she reached Bjorn's room.

"What is it?" Bjorn asked as she sat down next to him.

"I've made up my mind", Sansa told him, "I've been thinking about this for weeks now, I think it is time for me to leave."

"Are you going to search father?" her brother wanted to know, "And what about Arya and Gyda?"

"I'm not going far", Sansa clarified, "I will just move with them out of the town. To one of the small farms nearby…"

"Are you sure?" Bjorn wondered, "Have you talked about this with Aslaug? She will be saddened to hear you are leaving."

"I've made up my mind", Sansa assured him, "It is what I want. I need a change of my surroundings."

"Then I'm not one to hold you back", Bjorn told her, "But you know that you will always be welcome."

* * *

Once the weather was warm and dry, Sansa packed her stuff and loaded everything onto a small cart. Her daughters were sitting next to her as she gripped the reigns and urged the horse forward.

"Mother, where are we going?" Gyda wondered. Both twins were looking anxiously around, probably afraid they would never see the town again.

"Not far", Sansa assured them, "We are just going to live on the other side of the forest."

"So we can still come here and visit Grandmother?" Arya wanted to know.

"From time to time", Sansa promised, "Or maybe she will visit us some time…"

"That's a great idea", Arya enthused, "She has to come and visit!"

The cart was rumbling along the narrow path through the woods. Finally, the trees cleared the view and Sansa pulled the reigns to cause the horse to follow the road along the edge of the forest. Finally, a small hall came into view.

"We're here", Sansa announced. The twins looked around in awe, they had never before been on this side of the forest. Sansa stopped the cart and the three climbed down. Sansa began unloading the cart, while the twin girls ran off, exploring their new surroundings.

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 _A/N: Don't worry that I'm currently only publishing fillers, there is an idea behind it and I need some time to get the setting right... soon there will be more action, I promise._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	67. The midst of Winter

**67 The midst of Winter  
**

Never before had the summer been this hot, Sansa thought. Not in Kattegat, and certainly not during her childhood in Winterfell. All summer, she and her daughters were working hard to make the old farmhouse their new home. They had plowed the fields and sown the seed, and in a few weeks' time, it would be ready for harvesting.

Arya and Gyda struggled a bit more with their new surroundings. Their initial excitement over the move had been dampened by the realization that they would not see the other children of their family as much as they used to.

"Mother, why exactly have we come here?" Arya asked one day in late summer. Sansa, who was just stitching up a tear in one of her dresses, looked at her daughter.

"We live here now", she tried to explain, "Don't you like it here?"

"I don't know", Arya admitted, "Why couldn't we just stay with grandmother and all the others?"

"Life isn't always about what you want", Sansa told her earnestly, "I had to learn this in a very unpleasant way. Living away from the great hall will make you stronger one day."

"As strong as you?" the little girl asked with excitement, "Will I be a shieldmaiden as well?"

"You might become a shieldmaiden one day", Sansa smiled, "You do understand it now, do you?"

"Yes", the little girl nodded with all the seriousness it could muster.

* * *

They lived together just like many of the other families in the area. When they weren't tending to the crops or the goat they had, Sansa tried to teach her daughters how to fight with axe, sword and shield.

The three of them were sweating heavily, partly from the exhausting sparring, partly because the sun was shining unrelentingly from the sky. All three wore only light clothing, and in the next days, they would curse the bruises, but for now, it was the only way of being able to move at all.

"Come on, Arya", Sansa encouraged her daughter, "Try again."

The girl struggled with the shield. Sansa had given them smaller and lighter shields, yet for their untrained arms, it was still hard to handle the weight. She was carrying her own shield, a leftover one from the last raid.

Sansa smiled to herself, as Arya raised her wooden sword, ready to strike her mother. The name truly fitted, more than once, Sansa had found herself reminded of her own little sister, when she thought about her daughter's desire to become a famous shieldmaiden one day.

She was torn form her thoughts, when Arya's sword came swinging towards her, aimed at her chest – Sansa instinctively retreated a little and the wooden sword cut through the air harmlessly. She punched her shield forward, trying to take Arya from her feet. The girl parried with her own shield and was already bringing her sword forward, cutting at her mother's leg. Sansa stabbed her own sword downwards, deflecting the blow, before she struck with the pommel against Arya's shield.

Arya stumbled a little, then punched her shield forward, striking Sansa in the shoulder. Sansa grimaced as the sudden pain surged through her upper body, and blindly swung her sword against her opponent. Arya ducked behind her shield and the blade crashed harmlessly against the wood.

The shield hid her movement from her mother, and Sansa cried out, when her daughter's wooden sword struck her in the belly. For a moment, she stumbled back, fighting against the pain. Then, in a fluid motion, she dropped her own shield and bridged the gap to her daughter in a single step, bringing her arm around the girl's neck.

"You are already dead!" Arya protested as Sansa's arm was threateningly close to choking her.

"No, I would usually wear my chainmail", Sansa told her, while at the same time making sure that her daughter's airway was not actually compressed, "And you would need to stab, if you want to have any chance of penetrating it."

"Well, then you've won", Arya grumbled, "There's nothing that I can do now, especially since you've plucked my sword from my hand…"

"Alright, then I accept your surrender", Sansa smiled, before she released her daughter, "But if you ever find yourself in a similar situation, you could always to try and bite…"

* * *

Finally, they gathered the harvest and prepared for the first winter in their new home. By now, they had settled into their new routine, and so they had no trouble in getting the work done. Just before the winter's first snow fell, and the paths would turn nearly impassable, the three of them visited Kattegat once more.

"Sansa! What a nice surprise", Aslaug greeted them, as they finally reached the great hall. All three f them were dripping wet, since an autumn storm had surprised them halfway.

"Mother", Sansa replied the greeting, "It is good to see you well. How are my brothers?"

"They are around somewhere", Aslaug shrugged. The only one of her sons in her vicinity was crippled little Ivar, who was sitting on a chair in the back of the hall.

"No doubt, they're about to get into mischief", Sansa laughed, knowing the boys, "Are we sure we don't have anyone related to Loki in our family?"

"Not that I know of", Aslaug grinned, before a hiccup shook her. Sansa looked at her more closely, and she was certain Aslaug had already drunk more than just a couple of horns of Ale or wine, even though it was just shortly before noon. Sansa herself didn't object to Ale in general, nor even when drunk in large quantities - after all, she had done more than one mistake when she was too drunk - but this was a bit too much for her liking.

The three were greeted enthusiastically by Ragnar's sons, all of them glad to have their family around them once more. The boys were disappointed however, as they learned that Sansa and her daughters would return to their farm after only a few days.

"Why do you have to go?" Sigurd asked, almost whiningly.

"Because we live there now", Sansa told him, "We will come and visit you for Yol, most likely, in the spring at the very latest…"

"You know, you could stay here during the winter", Aslaug offered her adopted daughter, "You are always welcome."

"I know", Sansa replied gratefully, "But I have to do this. For myself as well as for my daughters. It will be good for them…"

"I am not so sure about this, but when you've made up your mind…" Aslaug shrugged.

"I have", Sansa reiterated.

* * *

About a week after they had returned to the farm, the snow began falling. Like in all other years, it soon was several inches deep, and two weeks before Yol, it covered the paths through the woods nearly a foot deep.

Most of the days, they ventured only as little as possible outside, to fetch water or wood. The rest of the time, they all spent inside, weaving or cooking.

The family of three looked up, when their daily routine was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. Sansa quickly wiped her hands on her apron, before she went to the door and opened. Outside, there were two men, who seemed to have traveled for a while.

"Come on in", she greeted them, "Who are you?"

"My name is Erik", the first man told her, "And this is Thorbjorn. We are on a journey to Kattegat."

"Then you are lucky", Sansa smiled, "You are only about a day's march from your destination. You can stay overnight if you want, and tomorrow you should be able to make it there."

"Thank you", Erik replied. He was tall and skinny, his beard had a few pearls braided into it. His hair was flowing past his shoulders and on his cloak. His companion was shorter, but heavier. He had his red hair shaved off in the back of his head, and one of his eyes was opaque and blind. Both of them wore thick cloaks, over their warrior's gear.

Sansa made an extra portion of stew this evening, and the five shared it, before they went to bed. For their guests, Sansa had prepared two cots in the middle of the main room, while she went into her own room, and the girls went to sleep in theirs.

* * *

Sansa had trouble falling asleep. She kept turning on the bed, unable to find rest this evening. There was something that kept her awake, but he could not identify what it was. Finally, her exhaustion took its toll and she fell in an uneasy sleep.

A shriek escaped her lips as she woke up with a start. No one could have heard it, after all, a big hand was covering her mouth.

"It is so cold outside", Erik whispered in her ear, "And you are so beautiful. Surely, you want to warm our beds a little, don't you? After all, your daughters' lives should be worth something…"

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 _A/N: I know I am evil, to leave you with such a cliffhanger - but don't worry I'll have much more action waiting in the next chapter!_

 _Don't forget to review!_


	68. Mine is the Fury

**68 Mine is the Fury**

For a moment, Sansa was paralyzed with shock and fear. She quickly came back to her senses, when her attacker began dragging her out of her bed. She tried frantically to hold on, but all she managed was to pull the blanket onto the floor with her.

"It will be easier if you just come along", Erik told her as he dragged Sansa towards the main room. She formed a fist and struck him in the side of the head. For a short moment, Erik was surprised and loosened his grip around her arms a little, yet as Sansa tried to pull herself away, he still managed to hold on to her wrist.

"On the other hand, if you insist on fighting, it will be much worse", he shrugged as he twisted her wrist violently, "I don't really care what you choose."

Sansa winced, as her arm was twisted, and she had to move along to keep it from breaking. Erik kept pushing her forward, and his movements brought him to a stand right behind Sansa. This was her chance, she realized. She quickly pushed her body up, and with her left elbow struck Erik on the nose. The warrior lost his balance, and fell over.

There was no way she would be able to stand on her own against two grown man, Sansa realized. She needed a weapon! A kitchen knife might be enough, but she had to be quick. Sansa quickly leaped over the hearth, which was reduced to glowing embers by now. She grabbed a knife from a nearby shelf and lunged towards Erik, who had just gotten up from the floor.

For a moment, they stood there, measuring each other. Suddenly, the fight had become uneven, and both knew that. Yet neither one could back out.

Erik threw himself forward, trying to force Sansa's arm with the knife away. She tried to bring the blade forward, in the line of his movement. A slash of hers left a bloody gash on his upper arm, yet the wound was more an inconvenience than a danger. Sansa leaped forward, the knife raised high, aimed at her opponent's neck. Erik raised his arm, blocking her attack and the blade stopped a hand's width from his skin. Threatening, but harmless.

He retaliated by grabbing Sansa's dress and pushing her back, until she could feel herself slam against the wall. Slowly, Erik's finger approached her throat, while still both of her arms were trapped. Sansa kneed him in the groin and Erik dropped to his knees in front of her, moaning loudly. With a quick step, Sansa was behind him and had her knife on his throat

"Get away from him!" she heard and looked up. Erik's companion was standing in the doorway, holding one of her daughters in his grip. In the darkness, Sansa was unable which one it was, but it didn't really matter – she wouldn't risk the life of neither one.

"Mother!" the girl called out.

"Be quiet", Thorbjorn spat, "It seems we are arriving at the perfect time to stop you from killing my friend. Now drop that knife."

"Give me my daughter", Sansa pleaded, still threatening Erik.

"Nice try", Thorbjorn laughed, "Drop the knife and step away from him. I'm not going to kill you little girls just yet, but I will hurt them badly if you don't do as we like."

Sansa felt conflicted. She could hardly give away the only bit of leverage she had, yet of course they had even more leverage above her. There was nothing she could do but surrender and hope it would all be over quickly.

"Alright, I surrender", she declared, taking the knife away from Erik's throat. The warrior was still grimacing in pain and sitting on the floor.

Just in this moment, Arya dug her teeth into Thorbjorn's hand and tore herself free. She quickly crossed the room to her mother, who had quickly gathered what was happening and now plunged her knife deep into Erik's neck. Blood spurted into the air and into Sansa's face as Erik's face went pale of the bloodloss.

Sansa pulled the knife out, watching as the heart was still pumping blood through the deadly wound. She turned towards Thorbjorn who was still standing at the other end of the room, holding his injured hand.

"The bitch bit me!" he exclaimed, "She will pay for that!"

"She is the granddaughter of a king", Sansa smiled cruelly, "My daughters have inherited my family's warrior spirit. And now you will die – just like your friend did."

Only now, Thorbjorn seemed to realize that Erik was lying on the ground, a puddle of dark blood around him. His eyes widened in surprise, before he gritted his teeth in anger.

Sansa was holding her knife at the ready, just as Thorbjorn was. They circled each other, waiting for the other one to make their move. Arya had retreated in the corner of the room and was now anxiously watching the fight.

Thorbjorn made a step towards Sansa and she fell for the feint, making a quick cut which would have hit his face had he pressed his attack home. He laughed, and Sansa glared at him angrily.

Next Sansa made an attempt. She came at him, then raised the knife as she was in range. Thorbjorn moved to parry her attack, but in the last moment, Sansa changed the direction of her attack, bringing the knife dangerously close to Thorbjorn's throat.

He merely laughed and pushed her back. Sansa stumbled a couple of steps through the room, until her shin connected to the stone foundation of the hearth. Her momentum carried her forward, and she rolled through the hot embers, scattering some of them over the earthen floor.

She quickly tried to get back on her feet, grimacing from the dozen small burns she had acquired during this stunt. Now the hearth was between Thorbjorn and her, making quite a formidable barricade.

His glance met her eyes. For a moment, they tried to read the other's movement, and then Thorbjorn tried to go around the hearth. Sansa countered by moving in the same direction, so the hearth was still in between them.

Thorbjorn seemed angry that he had failed to surprise her. He waited a few moments, then he moved in the reverse direction. Again, Sansa shadowed his movements, keeping the hearth as a barricade.

Angrily, Thorbjorn feinted to move around the hearth once more, before he stepped onto the stone and jumped over the hearth. This time, Sansa was surprised and barely managed to get out of the way of his raised blade. It merely left a cut on her shoulder, and she rolled to the side to get out of his range.

Sansa was just coming back to her feet, when from she spotted a movement in the corner of her eye. She turned to face Throbjorn who was quickly coming towards her. His body crashed into hers, and together they landed on the floor. The air was pressed out of Sansa's lungs, when the warrior landed on top of her. She was already struggling to free herself, when she felt a warm liquid drench her gown. Looking down, she saw Throbjorn's eyes turn empty, as Sansa's knife stuck in his chest. He tried to speak, but only a few bubbles of blood came out, before he rolled over and died.

Panting heavily, Sansa sat up next to her opponent. She didn't care that she had burns on her arms and legs, nor that she was covered in more blood than a priestess at the sacrifice to mark the sowing season.

Sansa's sense were alerted when she heard footsteps approaching her from behind. Quickly, she grabbed the knife and pulled it out of the wound, ready to face whomever was still coming for her. The blade raised high, she turned around and saw Gyda and Arya stand there.

The knife fell to the floor and Sansa closed her arms tightly around the two little girls. She couldn't hold back the tears, and they all cried together, grateful that this nightmare was over.

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 _A/N: I did promise you more action didn't I? I hope you all liked the update._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	69. The Sins of the father

_A/N: So I've decided to bring the story forward at a faster rate – indeed this is a chapter I wrote a long time ago, when I was still deciding which way to go… I'm following the series' time jump, although not quite as far… and you'll notice that the first part of the chapter is quite close to the episode for a change. I hope you'll like it nevertheless._

 _ **Sam Hill**_ _: Small wonder you didn't see your review right away, since I've enabled the "Moderate guest reviews" function, allowing me for about a day to decide whether I want this guest review displayed or not.  
I will consider your suggestion, but I have to tell you right now that I don't get around to writing as much as I would like to, and that I usually abandon more stories after writing one or two chapters than I actually go on and publish. This isn't to say the idea is bad, but sometimes I don't find myself able to get it into a story in a way I am satisfied with it. So, I will think about it, but please don't be angry if I don't get around to actually writing it._

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 **Chapter 69 Sins of the father**

Bjorn was standing in the shallow water of Kattegat's harbor, avoiding any movement, while his eyes scanned the surface of the calm water. Finally, his fishing spear shot into the water and he retrieved a fat fish, struggling to free itself from the spear.

"Bjorn, you better come!" Aslaug called from the beach. Bjorn broke off his fishing tour and climbed out of the water.

Still dripping, he entered the great hall. A bald man was waiting for him.

"Who is this?" Bjorn wanted to know.

"His name is Thorhall", Aslaug explained, "He has come with a story."

"Last year, I went on a raiding party with Earl Gunnar Hallgrimsson", he began, "We fought against the armies of King Egbert and wintered in Wessex. We made a treaty with Egbert's Ealdormen and while we were there, they told us that your father, King Ragnar… had sired by child by Queen Kwentrith of Mercia. And this child still lives at Egbert's court."

Bjorn snorted slightly.

"What's the child's name?" he asked.

"Magnus", Thorhall answered, "He's a young man now, ten years old."

"Are you certain that his Magnus is really my father's child?" Bjorn asked angrily.

"How can I be certain?" Thorhall asked, "I was not there at the conception. But why would they lie?"

Aslaug stood up from her chair, before she nipped on her wine.

"There was something else you learned from Egbert's Ealdormen, was there not?" she reminded him.

"So?" Bjorn asked angrily, tired of asking for every little bit.

Thorhall gulped heavily, before he continued: "It was about your father's farming settlement in Wessex. We asked if it still existed and they laughed. They said it was destroyed almost as soon as your father sailed away. But they allowed some of the settlers to escape, so they could bring the word back to your father, as a warning."

"He never mentioned it", Bjorn stated.

"Ask him now", Thorhall suggested.

"We don't know where Ragnar is", Aslaug told the messenger, "He left soon after his defeat in Paris. We haven't seen him in years."

"Forgive me asking", Thorhall began, "But how could such a man just disappear?"

"Go and eat and drink, Thorhall", Aslaug offered to change the subject, "We are grateful for your visit."

* * *

The young man was sleeping until his brother shook him by the shoulders.

"Ivar, wake up!" Ubba urged him, "Bjorn is here."

The five brothers were sitting in front of a hunter's cabin, where the younger brothers had gone for a few weeks. All were shocked by Bjorn's revelations of their father's sins.

"So you think our father never knew?" Ubba wanted to reiterate.

"It's possible", Bjorn admitted, "It wasn't always easy to navigate the seas."

"He knew", Hvitserk disagreed, sharpening his skinning knife, "He had to."

"If he did, he should have told the people", Sigurd added, a half skinned rabbit in his hands, "Everyone lost relatives. Fathers and uncles, sons and daughters. They would have demanded revenge."

"That is why he didn't tell them", Ivar interrupted. As he realized the questioning looks of his brothers, he explained, "It was a waste of time. They were dead. Ragnar wanted to sail to Paris, he wanted to be famous. Isn't that more important?"

"You could say that", Bjorn nodded.

"What does that mean?" Ivar spat.

"Here is what it means, at least to me", Hvitserk raged, "Our father abandoned us. We were just children and he ran off. And now, we find out that he kept this big secret from everyone. That he was not truthful, or honest…"

"It makes me feel sick", Sigurd shook his head, "How could our father not tell the people what had happened?"

"Maybe if he told them, they would have killed him?" Bjorn suggested, causing Sigurd to look down ashamed.

"If it's true that our father lied to his people and abandoned them", Ubba said, speaking up for the first time, "Then I hope he never comes back."

"If he did, I would kill him", Hvitserk volunteered. Bjorn sighed in shock.

"Me too", Sigurd added after a moment.

Ivar threw his cup at his brother.

"Screw you", he said, "He never did anything wrong. He is our father. And that is the end of it."

He paused for a moment, to think of the worst insult he knew, "You all sound like a bunch of _Christians!_ "

"I love our father as much as you do", Ubba replied.

"Who said I loved him, Ubba?" Ivar clarified, "I said I admired him. He is Viking. _And you are soft._ "

The others smiled at this insult, coming from their crippled youngest brother.

"I am not soft!" Ubba raged, standing up, "None of us is soft. But we want to understand who our father is, and what he did. As his son, his fame does not interest me. What he used his power for, now that would interest me."

"By now, my brothers", Hvitserk suggested, "There will be a lot of anger in Kattegat. Now they know the truth."

"So if he ever came back…" Sigurd began.

"I don't think he's ever going to come back", Bjorn interrupted him, "I think what happened in Paris finally broke him. You can all say whatever you want, he was a human. People started to talk as if he were a god. But he was a man with many dreams and many failings. But despite all his failings, he's still the greatest man in the world to me. But I know who I will ask whether all these things are true."

* * *

"Wait, where exactly are we going?" Sigurd asked as he recognized the way. The almost youngest had wanted to go with Bjorn, unable to find rest until he knew the truth.

"Our sister's" Bjorn told him, "Where did you think we'd go?"

"I would have expected Floki", Sigurd admitted.

Finally, they had reached the lonely farmstead where Sansa and her daughter's lived, a little outside of the steadily growing Kattegat. Both dismounted from their horses and were greeted by a young woman, eleven years old.

"Uncle Bjorn! Uncle Sigurd!" Arya called out to them.

"Hello Arya", Bjorn smiled, "Is your mother at home? We need to talk with her."

Arya nodded and accompanied them both into the house, where Sansa was just standing at the hearth.

"Bjorn, Sigurd! What a surprise!" Sansa enthused as she saw them, "It's far too rare that you come and visit."

"It's good to see you", Bjorn said, "But we need to talk with you about something pretty serious."

Sansa wiped her hands on her skirt before stepping towards them.

"Gyda, can you watch the soup for me?" she asked, before going outside where she sat down on a bench.

"A messenger came to Kattegat…", Sigurd began.

"You once told me you kept all our father's secrets", Bjorn cut him off, "Secrets that anyone would kill you for, if they were known."

Sansa nodded, "And now you've come to ask me the big one – the settlement in Wessex?"

Bjorn wiped his face with his hand, while Sigurd looked angry and shocked.

"You knew?!" the younger man asked, "All those years?"

"One of the farmers escaped and told me about these things", Sansa recalled, "I killed him."

"Aside from that", Bjorn interrupted his brother, "Did you also know that our father had a child with Queen Kwentrith?"

"I know nothing about a child", Sansa told him, "But I would not be surprised."

"How could you just lie to everyone?" Sigurd asked in frustration.

"I never lied to anyone about it", Sansa smirked, "In fact, in all those years, there was only one who ever inquired about the settlement. Nobody cared – and we had much bigger problems back then."

"Who asked you about this?" Bjorn wanted to know.

"No one ever asked _me_ ", Sansa clarified, "That was the only time our father ever lied about that subject. When Erlendur came to Kattegat in preparation for the raid on Paris."

"What you do mean with bigger problems?" Sigurd inquired, "What can be worse than an entire settlement slaughtered?"

"Do I have to remind you, that until Rollo, King Egbert was the only one ever beating us on the battlefield?" Sansa asked, "Ragnar had already begun the preparations for Paris, and at the same time, Kalf usurped your mother. Somehow, we managed to turn him into an ally, as well as many others who weren't bound by oath. If we'd stopped the raid on Paris then, the whole alliance would have scattered."

* * *

A week later, the four young men had returned from their hunting trip into the main town of Kattegat. It had grown very considerably during these past years, traders from all over the world filling the streets.

While the others were out, Sigurd was sitting with his mother.

"Did you know that Sansa knew about all this?" he asked her.

"No, I had no idea", Aslaug stammered, "I never would have guessed. She knew all those years?"

"She said so herself", Sigurd shrugged.

In this moment, Hvitserk entered the great hall, highly excited.

"Hvitserk, what is it?" Aslaug wanted to know.

"I've just been asked whether all these rumors about our father were true", he told them, "The people think he should have told them. And now they are angry at us."

* * *

The arrival of a group of warriors carrying the colors of Queen Aslaug on their shields ended the peaceful morning in the little farmstead. Sansa was dragged from her home, the girls screaming and crying loudly, not understanding what was happening.

Keeping her at distance with their weapons, one of the warriors tied her arms together, before she was dragged away from her home and to the great hall.

The doors of the great hall opened and Sansa was dragged inside, her hands still tied together. Her brothers looked surprised and shocked at seeing her in this state, while Aslaug was smiling cruelly.

"Well, if you wanted me to come and visit, you could have asked", Sansa smiled with sarcasm at her adoptive mother.

"Sansa, you have betrayed us all", Aslaug told her, "You murdered someone and hid the truth from everyone for almost ten years. You will have to face a trial tomorrow."

"What about my daughters?" Sansa wanted to know.

"What about them?" Aslaug shrugged, evidently not caring for them.

"They're still at the farm", Sansa began.

"I will look after them", Bjorn promised, before shooting an angry glance at Aslaug.

* * *

"Bjorn!" Gyda cried, "There were men and they took mother!"

"What's going on?" Arya wanted to know.

"Easy, girls", Bjorn smiled encouragingly, "Your mother was arrested. She did something very bad a long time ago and she will be standing before a trial tomorrow."

"Can we see her?" Arya queried.

"Not now", Bjorn told her, "But I will take you into town tomorrow, then we can see her."

* * *

In the meantime, the four brothers were meeting up on the beach. The sun was already setting, and they just sat there in the sand.

"I never would have thought that mother would arrest Sansa", Hvitserk told them.

"Me neither", Ubba agreed.

"I wish I never told her about Sansa knowing", Sigurd admitted.

"Then you are angry at Sansa for keeping a secret from us, but you would keep that a secret from mother?" Ivar asked, "I find that a little hypocritical."

"Well, I guess I can understand it now a little better", Sigurd shrugged.

"We have to help her", Ubba decided.

"Mother is not going to harm her in the end", Hvitserk disagreed, "She just wants to show our sister how angry she is with her."

"Then you don't know our mother", Ivar spat, "She's capable of killing her just to avenge her damaged pride."

"Her own daughter?" Hvitserk asked

"She's our sister, but she's not her daughter", Ubba reminded them, "The same as Bjorn is not her son. I don't know if I really want to take that chance."

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 _A/N: I hope you like the twist - if you care to go back, the root of it was placed a long time ago._

 _In any case, don't forget to review!_


	70. Blame

**Chapter 70 Blame**

Aslaug was sitting easily on her chair, on her side her sons, waiting for the trial. The great hall was exceptionally full, and even more were standing outside, trying to catch a glimpse at the trial.

Bjorn had brought Sansa's daughters into town, now the three were standing amongst the spectators.

"How can Grandma just do this?" Arya asked her oldest uncle.

"I don't know, dear", Bjorn replied, "Here she comes!"

Sansa was brought into the hall, shackles around her wrists and ankles. Two warriors dragged her in front of Aslaug, who looked coolly at her adopted daughter.

"Sansa you stand before us accused of willful murder, conspiracy and treason", Aslaug began, "You have been accused that you knew about the slaughter at the farming settlement in Wessex and lied to everyone about it for almost ten years. You are further accused of killing the farmer that escaped so that he could not relay the story to others, and furthermore that you conspired with your father to keep these things secrets until today."

Sansa stood silently before Aslaug, waiting to hear of any proof.

"I never lied about the settlement. I knew of the events, but I never lied about them. In those ten years, I was not asked about it a single time", she replied.

"So you are expecting us to believe that if anyone had asked, you would have just revealed it?" Aslaug snorted, "And did you kill the farmer?"

"I did", Sansa admitted, "He had expressed his wish to die and join his family numerous times, so I killed him."

"So you are guilty of murder", Aslaug rephrased, "And why do we even bother to listen to your lies when we have a witness? Bring him in!"

Sansa was hurt to the heart when Aslaug accused her of lying. The woman who had become a second mother to her, treated her like she was never trustworthy at all. And what was worse, of course she was right, Sansa was as guilty as she could be, but if she admitted that, she would be most likely executed. So far, a mixture of lies and truth had seemed to work, but who was this new witness?

The warriors opened the doors and Floki walked in slowly. Shooting Sansa a glance that the younger woman understood as something like 'I'm sorry', he walked up to Aslaug.

"Floki, you say you were witness how Sansa hid the truth from all of us?" Aslaug asked him, "How she killed the surviving farmer so that nobody would find out?"

"I was there and saw it with my own eyes", Floki replied.

"Liar!" Sansa yelled, hoping desperately for him to stop.

"The farmer came in the middle of the night", Floki recalled, ignoring her outburst, "Ragnar was away in Hedeby and Sansa spoke with him. When he had told her about the attack, she asked whether he had told anyone else. Then she strangled him to death and ordered me to keep quiet about these events."

"I ask all of you now, to look to the accused and make your judgement", Aslaug finally declared, "Everyone who thinks she's guilty of these crimes raise his hand!"

In the first moment, Sansa held on to the hope that no one would actually vote against her. After all, she had many friends in town, surely she would not be found guilty?

Her hopes were shattered when she looked around the room, seeing nearly every hand go up, voting for her death. Aslaug stood up from her chair with a triumphant smile.

"Sansa, you have been found guilty of murder, conspiracy and treason", she declared, "Tomorrow, you will be executed. How do you wish to die?"

Sansa gulped, still in shock. A preferable way to die? Not at all.

"By beheading", she declared. At least it would be over soon.

* * *

Sansa was brought back to her prison, where she sat on the dirty floor. As soon as the guards had left, tears started to stream from her eyes and she hammered angrily against the floor, until her hands hurt.

She turned quickly around and wiped the tears of her face, when she heard someone before the door. The door opened and Bjorn guided her daughters inside.

"Arya! Gyda!" Sansa greeted them with a tight hug.

"Mother, what's going to happen?" Gyda wanted to know, as soon as Sansa had released her.

"I will die tomorrow", Sansa said in resignation. Saying it herself made it feel even more real.

"But how can grandmother do that to you?" Arya argued, "It's not fair!"

"I know", Sansa replied smiling bravely, "It's not fair at all. But it often goes this way in life. Be strong for me. Grow up strong and beautiful, and I will be awaiting you in Valhalla."

"I will take care of them, I promise", Bjorn told her as he hugged his sister, "Don't worry about them."

After her visitors had left, Sansa felt a little more assured, knowing that her brother would take care of her children. By now, the sun had set and Sansa knew that it was only a matter of hours before her last heartbeat.

She was awoken from her daydream, when Aslaug entered the prison. Her adoptive mother was wearing the same elegant dress she had worn for the trial, yet her mood was much less vicious now.

"What do you want?" Sansa asked, desperately trying not to show her how much she had actually been hurt by her treatment.

"I came here to talk to you", Aslaug told her, "By now, it is obvious that you've kept Ragnar's secrets. But Ragnar is not here anymore and I need to know these secrets, so I can rule in Kattegat."

Sansa just looked away.

"I don't want you to die", Aslaug promised, "I will overthrow the judgement, the moment you tell me those secrets."

"So you want me to betray Ragnar's trust?" Sansa spat, "After all you've put me through today, trying me for treason, to finally betray his trust? By the way, I don't really understand how anyone can call that treason, when I merely kept the King's secrets safe!"

"Sansa, please, I don't want you dead", Aslaug pleaded, "I love you as if you were my daughter..."

"I loved you as if you were my mother as well", Sansa interrupted her, "But that was before – I stopped caring about life before, although I found some joy in this place, I don't mind dying. But I will not betray the trust that was placed in me! NEVER!"

"Sansa…" Aslaug tried again.

"Just…Go!" Sansa yelled, "Leave me!"

Aslaug gave her a sad smile and quickly walked outside, leaving Sansa in her cell, her face buried in her hands.

* * *

Sansa slept unwell that night. Every few minutes she shrieked up, having nightmares about what it would feel like to be beheaded or what she would miss in her daughter's lives.

In her dream, the guards came already in the middle of the night to get the once so popular princess for her execution. It had somehow been changed from being beheaded at noon to a Blood Eagle in the early morning. With a shrill cry, Sansa woke up once more.

Just as she had calmed herself down and assured herself that being blood eagled was not going to happen to her, she heard steps outside the door of her prison. Quickly closing her eyes, she tried to wake up from this dream as well. It had to be a dream, didn't it?

The door opened and a couple of men entered. They were not carrying torches or candles, obviously the four of them did not want to be seen.

"I think she's asleep", one of them whispered and almost at the same instant, Sansa felt someone shake her. She opened her eyes and looked in the faces of her brothers, only Ivar missing.

"What are you doing here?" she inquired with a yawn.

"We came to say goodbye", Ubba explained, "After all, we're not going to see each other for a while."

"Don't worry, my brothers", Sansa replied softly, "I will eagerly await you in Valhalla."

"You're not going to die", Sigurd told her.

"We're here to help you escape", Hvitserk explained.

Sansa could barely believe her ears.

"Escape?" she asked, finding a faint glimmer of hope in her heart, "Where should I go?"

"We'll explain it underway", Bjorn urged, "For now we have to get you out of here first."

They unlocked their sister's shackles and quickly guided her outside.

The town was almost deserted, as it was typical in the middle of the night. No one wanted to be outside, only a few guards were around. Sneaking in the shady alleys, the group made it safely to the harbor.

* * *

Ivar was already awaiting them there, smiling broadly as he saw his sister.

"We've organized a boat and a crew, loyal more to us than to mother", Sigurd explained, "They will take you to Frankia."

"Frankia?!" Sansa asked in shock, "That's hardly a safe place for me. And what about Rollo? What if he finds out that I'm around, he's going to kill me."

"Well, actually, we hoped you could find refuge in his territories on the coast", Ivar admitted, "It would definitely bring you out of mother's reach…"

"And what is more", Bjorn interrupted him, "We will likely be at war with King Egbert soon. It would be advantageous, if we were able to move through the channel, without the Frankish Rollo hindering us."

"So I'm in a diplomatic mission as well?" Sansa sighed, "Could you make this plan any more complicated?"

Hvitserk sat on to speak, but Sansa cut him off, "Just kidding, little brother. I am grateful to all of you for saving my life."

"One more thing", Bjorn added, "In the end, it's your choice, but I think you should leave the twins with us."

"They're not here?" Sansa demanded to know, "My biggest fear is that I won't see them grow up – and now you're doing the same to me?"

"Easy, Sansa", Bjorn warned her, "I already promised you to take care of them, as will the others."

"I know, but that was…" Sansa tried to argue, but was stopped by Bjorn.

"This journey and especially this mission is pretty risky", he reminded her, "It is not a place for teenage girls. And you've already spent years apart from them. Now that they're almost grown, they will understand it even better."

"But what if Aslaug takes her anger on me out on them?" Sansa cried.

"Then we will all protect them", Sigurd and Ubba promised in unison.

Sensing that her brothers had a valid point, Sansa reluctantly gave in. She chewed her lip, thinking feverishly about any convincing argument, failing to find one. All she could do was agree, so she nodded distinctively.

"Well, then we better get you underway, before anyone wakes up", Ivar urged, "Farewell, Sansa."

Sansa bowed down to her crippled brother and hugged him tightly, before proceeding with the other members of the family.

Trying to hide her tears, Sansa stepped onto the ship and they left the harbor and sailed out of the fjord. Steering south-west, the ship brought Sansa towards her destination. She wrapped herself in a fur blanket and slowly faded into a dreamless sleep.

 _XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

 _A/N: I hope you're all happy how this tunred out, and are eager to see how Rollo will react to his visitor..._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	71. Meeting of the Traitors

**Chapter 71 Meeting of the Traitors**

The lone Viking ship could be seen in the far distance of the horizon. The Frankish scouts on their horses were afraid, yet neither of them wanted to reveal this to his companions.

"We should warn the Duke", their leader finally decided. The four men turned their horses around and rode back to the castle, not overly hasty, but not wasting time either.

* * *

Upon telling the news, they were quickly allowed to enter the castle's main room, where the duke was holding court.

"Your grace", the leader of the scouts said, "We were on patrol along the coast this morning, when we saw a northern ship in the distance."

A great tension laid itself over the room upon these news. Northmen had not been attacking for years, some had even dared to hope that their incursions where a thing of the past.

"Only one?" the duchess Gisela asked, "Maybe a scout?"

"It's possible, Mylady" the soldier replied.

"Could you make out the banner?" Duke Rollo wanted to know, "The color of the sail?"

"The sail was dark, maybe red or brown", the soldier shrugged, "The ship was too far away to recognize any banners."

* * *

The people in the harbor watched with growing unease, as the Viking ship approached. Being only one ship, it soon became obvious that they wanted to land peacefully. A red haired woman was standing on the helm, guiding the ship skillfully to the pier, where some of the Frankish laborers caught the lines thrown over from the crew and quickly tied them to the pier.

Finally Sansa stepped onto the pier, followed by only one warrior. The rest of the crew was to remain by the boat, Sansa had ordered. She was armed, yet not entirely clad in her battledress.

* * *

The two of them made their way towards the castle where Rollo was residing, as she had been told. Entering the main room, she saw Rollo sit there, looking like the Frankish noble he was by now. On his side, the Frankish princess was seated, mustering Sansa with a mixture of curiosity and arrogance.

The other members of the court were standing around them, as the two Vikings stepped forward towards Rollo.

"Sansa ", Rollo greeted her dangerously neutral.

"Hello uncle", Sansa replied in Norse, "I need to talk with you about something important. In private."

Rollo sighed and guided her with a wink of her hand towards an adjoining office. Once the door was closed behind them, Rollo turned towards her.

"Are you finally here to kill me?" he asked, only half joking.

"No, I am here to stay alive", Sansa smiled, "I've been in trouble. Kattegat is not safe for me at the moment, so I came here."

"From all the places you could go, you chose the most dangerous one?" Rollo wanted to know, "And what about Ragnar? Can he not protect you?"

"Ragnar is not in Kattegat", Sansa blurted out, "He left after we returned. No one has seen him in years. And my being here has also an additional purpose – we are likely to be at war with King Egbert soon. I need to ask you to let our ships through the channel unhindered."

"Ragnar is not in Kattegat anymore?" Rollo asked in surprise, "Then who rules? And what is this conflict with Wessex about?"

"Aslaug has taken over the power, she's the Queen of Kattegat", Sansa explained.

"Then why does she not protect you?" Rollo queried, "She loves you!"

"That was before", Sansa spat with tears glistening in her eyes.

"Before what?" Rollo reiterated.

"Before she sentenced me to death", Sansa whispered, "The farming settlement in Wessex was destroyed before we even left for Paris the first time. Ragnar and I kept it a secret from everybody. I even killed the survivor that had told me about all this. But some Earl wintered in Wessex last year and found out about it – and of course Aslaug felt betrayed."

"I can't really disagree with her", Rollo said, deep in thoughts.

"Think about it: the raid on Paris had already been announced and several Earls and individual boat crews whose loyalty was questionable had already declared for Ragnar", Sansa explained, "We both know that Egbert is one of the few who actually defeated us in battle – and all that would not have brought the farmers back to life."

"If you put it that way, it makes sense", Rollo agreed, "So aside from me keeping neutral in your upcoming war with Wessex, you want a sanctuary here?"

"Exactly", Sansa smiled broadly at him, "Or do you know any other place where I'm definitely out of Aslaug's reach?"

"Well, I can always promise you that I will not attack any ships that cross the channel, as long as they don't raid my lands", Rollo said, "About you staying here, let me talk about this with Gisela for a while, then I will give you my decision."

"Agreed, uncle", Sansa grinned.

* * *

When Rollo returned to the main room, he ushered Gisela quickly into the office, while Sansa was waiting with the rest of the court. Most of them had already realized that this new event had a high priority in their Duke's mind, and had spread all over the castle for a while.

In the small office, Gisela looked at her husband in shock.

"She wants what?!" the Frankish Princess asked after Rollo had given her a brief summary of Sansa's message.

"She needs a safe place to stay", Rollo repeated.

"And so she decides to turn up here and offers you to graciously forgive you what your brother sees as betrayal", Gisela spat, "She's a monster."

"She's not a monster", Rollo tried to calm her, "She's my niece – and you thought I was a monster at first as well, didn't you, my love?"

Gisela smiled ruefully thinking about the first months after their marriage.

"Alright, maybe she's not entirely a monster", she admitted, "But did you remember that she almost killed me once?"

"If I remember correctly", Rollo smirked, "I pointed out that she was the one who threatened you after you said that you would like to meet either her or my sister-in-law one day…"

Gisela rolled her eyes, already knowing that she had been defeated by her own words.

"Well, is she at least Christian?" Gisela wanted to find another excuse to refuse their guest.

"No", Rollo said, "And I don't want to suggest that to her. She's a formidable fighter and terrible when angered."

Gisela looked at him, slightly taken aback that her fearless husband was afraid of his niece's wrath.

"And how long does she intend to stay?" she wanted to know, almost ready to give in.

"I guess until it is safe for her to return to Kattegat", Rollo smiled, "To be honest I didn't ask. And what I want to know is whether it's only her or the whole crew or her family."

"Then why don't you ask her?" Gisela suggested.

* * *

They both returned to the main room. By now it was deserted except for Sansa and her companion. Rollo and Gisela walked towards them and Sansa stood there, facing them.

"We have a basic agreement, but we need a little more details", Rollo began, "For a start, how long do you think you would stay?"

Sansa quickly switched to Frankish as she replied, "That depends. I guess, until it is safe for me to return to Kattegat."

"You speak Frankish?" Gisela asked in surprise.

"I learned some during the preparations for the raid on Paris, Princess", Sansa smiled, "Unfortunately, I haven't been using it in years."

"Second question", Rollo brought them back to the topic at hand, "Is it only you or are the twins with you? Or even the whole crew?"

"Only me", Sansa replied sadly, "My daughters are with Bjorn, and I will send the crew back with a message for them."

"Then you are welcome", Gisela decided, "Let's get you something to eat and drink, surely your journey was tiring."

* * *

Gisela guided Sansa towards the dining room, trying to judge her new guest. Sansa walked proudly, she realized, and from the scars all over her face, it was obvious that she had seen lots of battles. Underneath there was still a beautiful lady, Gisela thought, but the scars hid most of her former face. Remembering that the Northmen didn't dress like the Franks, it was rather easy not to belittle Sansa's comparatively poor gown.

Sansa herself tried to figure out the Princess as well. Wearing a finely woven, silk dress, it was obvious that Rollo's lands made them rich. A pregnant belly was bulging underneath the silk, Gisela was already far along, maybe around eight months, Sansa estimated. The Princess was smiling at her softly, either she had forgiven or at least forgotten that Sansa had once held a blade to her throat.

Just as the silence between them began to become awkward, they reached the dining hall. Gisela offered Sansa a place on one of the tables and waved at a servant.

"This lady is an honored guest of me and my husband", Gisela told the servant, "She has travelled a long way. Get her something to eat, will you?"

"Yes, Milady", the servant bowed and quickly walked towards the kitchen.

"You will have to excuse us, but since your arrival was a surprise and you're not her at the normal eating times, I fear they will scratch together a rather poor meal", Gisela sighed.

"It's alright", Sansa smiled, "I've eaten things that I don't want to speak of in the darkest days of my life. I am sure, they will do it just right."

* * *

The servant returned and placed a trencher with meat in front of Sansa and a halved piece of bread next to it. With the second run, she brought a can of wine and two goblets. She poured the wine and then stepped back to the wall, awaiting her lady's next wishes.

Sansa sliced large pieces off the beef, while Gisela nipped on her wine.

"So, how do you like Frankia so far?" Gisela asked, trying to make a little conversation.

"The first time I came here", Sansa grinned, "I found the land very… generous. The second time less so."

"You're not going to raid here, aren't you?" Gisela wanted assurance.

"Of course not", Sansa smiled at her, "This time, I will hopefully be able to see a little more of the land."

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 _A/N: So I've decided to fill a more lengthy period with Sansa staying with Rollo, so this will be the setting for the upcoming story arc. And since I've been unfair to Rollo in some of my stories (and probably will be so in the future), I hope you all are happy with him being a good guy in this story..._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	72. First Days

**Chapter 72 First days**

Sansa awoke in the morning, when the sun started looking through the window of her room. She quickly got dressed and found the ducal family in the dining room.

"Sansa! I hope you've settled in well", Rollo greeted her.

"Sure, thanks", she replied before taking a seat. She didn't even need to wait long, and a servant came and placed a trencher with some bread, cheese and butter in front of her. Sansa ate it, politely answering the questions directed at her but otherwise silent.

* * *

After that, Sansa decided to explore the castle. While surely not as impressive as the Red Keep, it was bigger than anything she had ever seen in Kattegat. Her feet carried her down into the great courtyard. She looked around, taking in her surroundings. The square Keep towered above her, and she had to blink against the sunlight to make out the guards on the battlements on top of it. The Keep itself was surrounded by a large stonewall, which formed the courtyard. Huddled against the wall were smaller structures, stables, grain stores and a smithy. The shieldmaiden wandered around, until she had reached the battlements on top of the wall. Sansa gasped, as she laid eyes on the city underneath her. It stretched almost as far as she was able to see. It was immediately clear that it was much larger than Kattegat, perhaps even as big as King's Landing.

"What do you think of your first view on a Frankish city?" she heard someone say behind her. Startled, Sansa turned around and faced a young warrior, clad in the typical armor most were wearing in the castle.

"Well, it's hardly the first time I've laid eyes on Frankish buildings", Sansa replied, "But I have to admit, it is fairly impressive."

"When was your first time?" the warrior asked.

"When my father besieged Paris, about a decade ago", Sansa smiled, "And before that, I had already seen the towns and cities in England."

"We don't have anything as impressive as Paris here in Neustria", the warrior admitted, "Although I've never been there myself, I have heard it is the most beautiful city in the world…"

"I don't know about the entire world, I've see some impressive cities out there", Sansa said dreamily, "But in this country, Paris is most definitely the most impressive city. Just as is Lundene in England."

"I'd like to see them sometime", the warrior agreed, "I've only seen the area a couple of miles around the castle in my entire life."

"Don't worry, you're still young", Sansa encouraged him, "I'm sure you will find the world a dangerous place in time. But one worth visiting."

In this moment, they were interrupted as another warrior called up to them: "Roland! Get to the armory!"

"Sorry, I have to go, I'd rather have asked you about the other cities you've visited", Roland smiled shyly, "But my captain wants me."

"Well, I guess we will run into each other at some point", Sansa smiled, "Take care!"

As Roland walked down the stairs from the battlements, he waved at Sansa, before disappearing inside of one of the buildings. She turned back and let eyes wander over the city, and as a couple of seagulls cried out over the harbor, over the sea as well. For the first time since she had come here, she realized how alone she was, how different everything here was from the accustomated life in Kattegat.

After standing alone for a while, Sansa began to feel the cold wind from the channel. Even though she had experienced weather far worse in Scandinavia and at sea, she still pulled her cloak tightly and decided to head back inside.

Once she had entered the Keep, Sansa found princess Gisela sitting on the table, eating again. The princess seemed to enjoy her meal waved for Sansa to sit down next to her.

"Princess", Sansa greeted Gisela, "How are you feeling today?"

"Well, I will be glad when my child finally is born", Gisela sighed, "Of course my midwife told me that it's still going to be another moon at least, but I wish I wouldn't have to wait."

"Tell me about it", Sansa chuckled, "I remember very well how that felt."

"You have children?" Gisela asked, "I didn't know you were married."

"Well, technically, I wasn't", Sansa blushed, "He was killed in battle before we had a chance to…"

"Boy or girl?" Gisela wanted to know.

"Two girls", Sansa smiled, "They were born as twins. Arya and Gyda, after my two dead sisters."

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know", Gisela stammered.

"It's alright", Sansa told her, "It's been a long time ago. But let's talk about something else."

"Fine by me", Gisela shrugged, "I can tell that it's a sensitive topic for you. So, tell me how you became a warrior…"

"Well, as undoubtedly my uncle has already told you, many women in our culture are warriors", Sansa began, "Of course, the majority of warriors is still male, but there are quite a number of shieldmaidens as well. And when my family was threatened by another Lord, I decided that I didn't want to stand aside and just watch as it was destroyed. And so, I began to train – and the rest brought me here."

"If you tell it like this, it sounds like the easiest thing in the world", Gisela smiled, "Yet her in Frankia, it is impossible. If anyone here even suggested to take women into battle, they would be considered fools and even worse."

"I'm sure you have many other good traits in this country", Sansa assured the princess, "For example, no matter how famous my father is, he did not forge an empire like your grandfather did."

"And which my father and his brothers divided", Gisela interrupted her.

"Maybe King Harald will one day succeed in uniting all of Norway under his banner", Sansa continued, "He made this vow a long time ago, and with time who knows what the norns have planned for him. But even if he succeeds, he will have accomplished less than your great-grandfather."

"The way you say it, it sounds as if my great-grandfather was the most extraordinary man in the world", Gisela replied, "But to me, he is merely a name, one of my ancestors. And indeed, I have heard many people refer to your father as the greatest man alive."

"We all have our fate, and it is up to the gods what that is", Sansa shrugged, "In any case, the journey that is my life has brought me here. And I hope I can get to know the country a little better than the last times I had come here."

"I am certain this can be arranged", Gisela assured her, "After all, you're going to be here for a while. It would be a shame if you didn't see anything."

A servant walked up to them, before politely interrupting them.

"Excuse my interruption, Princess Gisela", he set on to speak, "But Father Gregorius is waiting for you."

For a moment, Gisela seemed to search her memory what this meeting was about.

"I will be right by him", she told the servant, before turning to Sansa, "I'm sorry to leave you sitting here alone, but this is a rather important meeting with a very influential Abbot. If you need anything, just ask for it…"

"I will be alright", Sansa told her, as Princess Gisela stood up from her spot on the table and followed the servant outside.

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 _A/N: If you're not quite satisfied with this chapter as well, don't hesitate to tell me. To be honest, real life kept getting in the way, and I decided to rewrite most of it, but it didn't turn out much better than the first draft. In any case, I promise there will be more action in the next one._

 _Don't forget to review!_


	73. A new Relative

**73 A new Relative**

With time, Sansa began to get used to living in the castle of Rodomo, surrounded by the ducal family. She loved playing with the two children, William and Marcellus. Both of them were fascinated by her, and they kept asking her questions about the Vikings until Sansa almost was annoyed with the two boys.

The moon had completed nearly a full cycle after Sansa's arrival in the castle, when Princess Gisela gave birth. Sansa had offered to watch the boys, as Gisela had no chance of doing so herself and Rollo was occupied with the duties of ruling. The Duke and an emissary from a nearby monastery were brooding over a couple of parchments, when one of the servants entered the room.

"Forgive me my intrusion, Your Grace", the young woman said, "Your wife has given birth. Both mother and child are well."

Parchments flew off the table, as Rollo stood up. Without giving the priest another look, he followed the servant out of the room and through the castle. Finally, they reached the room where Gisela was lying in bed, still covered in sweat and short of breath. In her arms, she was holding a newborn girl.

"Our daughter", Gisela explained, as Rollo stepped closer.

"She's beautiful", Rollo smiled, "Have you thought of a name?"

"I want to call her Celsa", Gisela nodded, "It means 'exalted'."

"A beautiful name", Rollo agreed. He was still staring down at the newborn girl, fascination glimmering in his eyes. Carefully, he handed the infant back to his wife.

Finally, the couple was interrupted by two small children who were charging into the room. William and Marcellus were anxious to see their newest sibling, while Sansa watched them from the door.

"Well, boys, be quiet, she's upset easily", Gisela reigned in their excitement, "If you are careful, you can come up here on the bed and watch your sister more closely."

Now eager not to upset their sister, the boys carefully climbed up onto the bed.

"Why is she so wrinkled?" William asked his mother.

"That's because she's just been born, and it is very exhausting", Sansa explained from the door, "In a couple of days, she will look more normal."

"Sansa do you want to come here as well?" Rollo asked, "You're family as well."

Almost shyly, she stepped forward. The little girl seemed to watch her, and Celsa smiled when Sansa began to stroke her cheek.

"She's beautiful", Sansa commented, "You truly are blessed, Princess."

"Thank you."

* * *

There was hardly a day within the next weeks that went by without receiving some form of congratulations: Local landowners, the castle staff, the ducal families of the neighboring regions of Flanders and Brittany, even Gisela's relatives in the Frankish capital of Paris, everyone sent their blessings and best wishes for the newest addition to the family.

Most of the dukes merely sent word, often accompanied by presents. However, some of them decided to show up at Rollo's castle in person.

It was a warm summer day, and sweat was running down from Sansa's brow, as she was sparring with some of Rollo's warriors in the courtyard. It had taken them a while to accept her, but as the first ones had landed in the dirt, the shieldmaiden had earned their respect.

Not that Sansa really needed their respect; after all, most of them had barely outgrown their boyhood. Barely any had ever fought in a real battle, and all they had seen of war were the tales of the bards.

"Get up", she teased the young warrior who was blushing deeply as he had lost his helmet during the fall and was now covered in dust, "Always remember, no one asks the winner if they've fought fairly. If there is a dirty trick that will push the odds in your favor, use it."

They were interrupted by a column of horsemen who came riding into the courtyard. The men on the horses were clad in fine clothes and armor, and their spears were adorned with banners. There could be no doubt that these were important men.

"We are here to see Duke Rollo", the herald of the group declared.

"I will fetch him immediately", one of the warriors responded, before running off into the castle. In the meantime, the riders were dismounting from their horses and stableboys were coming forward to take care of the animals.

Sansa was stowing away her weapons, when Rollo came out of the Keep. He seemed to have run, as he was slightly short of breath and the seams of his robe were still flying behind him.

"Count Robert", Rollo finally greeted their leader, "I was not expecting you. Please, come on in."

The men followed Rollo into the keep, and Sansa walked with them. Finally, they entered the main room. Rollo sat down on his throne, and turned towards his visitors. A couple of servants quickly hurried forward and brought drinks for the guests.

"Well, Count Robert, what brings you all the way out here?" Rollo wanted to know.

"As you surely know, I spend much of my time in Paris", the nobleman explained, "I am currently on my way to my Flemish lands, and since it is hardly a detour, I wanted to congratulate you in person on the birth of your daughter."

"Thank you, my wife and I are honored that you have taken this much trouble upon you to bring that message", Rollo smiled, "Of course, you are welcome to stay inside the castle overnight."

"We don't want to cause trouble, Your Grace", Robert declined.

"I insist", Rollo smiled, "I will have the servants prepare quarters for you, and get the hall ready for a feast."

* * *

It didn't take long, and a little later in the afternoon, the main hall in the Keep was ready for the feast. The guests had found refreshments in their quarters, and the servants had not shied away from any effort to make the room sparkle.

Nor did the food lag behind. There were many courses of meats and vegetables, fruits and cake. The table of honor had been reserved for Rollo and his family, Count Robert and his herald, and of course Sansa.

Sansa had just taken a sip from her glass of wine, when Count Robert leaned over to her.

"So, you're one of the Northmen?" he asked, "I always thought Rollo here was the only one to settle here."

"Well, he surely is", Sansa replied, "I'm merely visiting, since I have many enemies at home at the moment. So it was only natural to make an extended visit to my uncle."

"Your uncle is Rollo?" Robert wondered.

"And my father is King Ragnar Lothbrok", Sansa nodded.

"Can he not protect you?" Robert wondered, "I always thought the remainder of your family wanted to see Rollo dead."

"Oh, we wanted to", Sansa grinned, "But we have always been able to see past our differences, when we needed to unite. And in this time, I need Rollo's help, so I am here."

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 _A/N: I hope you liked this update, exploring Sansa living with Rollo and what is the real reason for this frankish nobleman to show up in the castle?  
_

 _Rodomo is the old Frankish name for Rouen, the city gifted to Rollo, so basically the core of the Duchy of Normandy.  
_

 _Don't forget to review!_


	74. The Frankish connection

**74 The Frankish connection**

Count Robert was leaving the castle. After staying for two days, he and his entourage were riding off along the roads towards Flanders. Rollo, Gisela, and Sansa had accompanied them out into the great bailey of the castle. After saying their goodbyes, they watched as the horses disappeared in the distance.

"I don't know why, but I somehow feel relieved that they left", Sansa muttered silently.

"Why is that?" Rollo wondered, "Even though he is not a very highborn nobleman, Count Robert has considerable influence in Paris."

"It's just a feeling", Sansa replied, "I can't point to it for certain, but I didn't like him. I think he will bring trouble."

"Well, anyway, they are gone now", Gisela shrugged, "Whatever troubles you is no longer here."

Their conversation ended, as the first drops of rain started falling from the sky. Quickly everyone hurried inside, before the thunder cracked over the sky.

* * *

About two weeks after Count Robert had left, the life at the castle was disturbed once again. Sansa was just playing with William and Marcellus, while Princess Gisela was trying to comfort her daughter. Celsa had begun to teeth, and was fussing and crying most of the time.

Everyone around in the room looked up, when one of the guards entered. He quickly walked over to Gisela and bowed respectfully.

"What is it?" the princess wanted to know.

"Your Grace, there is another visitor at the gate", the warrior explained.

"Who is it?" Gisela inquired.

"Your brother, the Emperor", the warrior told her, "There was no time to prepare for such an esteemed guest."

"We shall receive him properly nevertheless", Gisela assured him, "Tell the cooks to prepare for a feast this evening, and send the Emperor in."

Shortly thereafter, Emperor Louis entered the room. Gisela's brother was clad in his usual attire of richly embroidered silk and colored linen. His hair fell down to his shoulders and was adorned with a golden crown. On his belt, he had a sword, and even though it was custom for any guest to surrender their weapons before entering a palace, no one could expect the Emperor himself to do so as well.

"Brother, welcome", Gisela greeted him, "What brings you all the way out here to the country?"

"Thank you, Gisela", Louis replied, "I've just come to check on my family. And of course to meet my new niece."

"Well, Celsa is sleeping right now", Gisela told him, "Come, get yourself refreshed, and I will introduce you later."

The Emperor nodded smilingly, while one of the servants came forward. The young woman was visibly nervous to be in the presence of such esteemed personalities, but lead the Emperor towards his room. The Emperor's own servants followed, carrying the baggage.

Not long after, Emperor Louis left his room again. He had used the time to change his dirty travelling clothes and wash up, before he was now going for a tour around the castle. Without obvious objective, his feet carried him through the corridors until he finally reached the courtyard.

The commotion caused by the arrival of the party had ebbed off. Just the usual activities were still going on. A blacksmith was fitting horseshoes, guards walked to and from their posts, and a couple of warriors were sparring near the armory. Looking around, Louis decided to watch the warriors in their training.

Just as he walked closer, the Emperor noticed something odd. One of the warriors had long hair, and was wielding equipment, which definitely seemed foreign. Only on the second look, he realized that the warrior was indeed a woman.

They broke off their sparring match, as the Emperor approached. Both of them bowed respectfully, but Louis waved them off.

"Please don't stop on my behalf", he told them, "I was rather enjoying watching two capable warriors."

"Thank you, your Highness", the woman answered, before she took a sip from a flask of water.

"You speak our language, yet you don't seem Frankish at all", Louis observed, "Where are you from? Who are you?"

"My name is Sansa Ragnarsdottir, your Highness", she introduced herself, "I am the niece of Rollo and the daughter of King Ragnar Lothbrok."

"So you're the princess of the northmen", Louis summed up, "And what brings you to Frankia?"

"As a matter of fact, the same as you brought to Rodomo", Sansa smiled, "I'm visiting with my family."

* * *

Emperor Louis stayed only for a few days, before he returned to Paris. With great pomp, the entire group left on horseback. Everyone in Rollo's household had come out of the castle to see them ride off.

After a couple of days, the convoy finally reached the capital of the Frankish empire. Before he even got to rest, the Emperor already received a Frankish nobleman for a secret audience.

"My Emperor", Count Robert bowed, "I hope your journey was satisfying."

"It was", Louis replied politely, "I always enjoy visiting my sister. And she is lucky to heavy so many healthy children."

"I hate to bring this subject up again", Robert excused himself, "But have you given any further thought on what we had talked about before you left? My concerns about their loyalties…"

"Well, you are definitely right about their visitor", Louis admitted, "I was surprised that the daughter of the King of the Northmen is living with them."

"From what she herself admitted to me, when I was visiting", Robert continued, "Apparently they have decided to forgive him what they had considered treason. Now I am afraid once the King of the Northmen asks his brother to join forces with him, he will do so willingly. And it may well lead to new raids into Frankia."

"To be honest, I haven't thought about it this way yet", the Emperor answered, "But I shall have my spies look into it definitely."

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 _A/N: Sorry for keeping you waiting that long, I hope you liked the update. Count Robert definitely has an agenda, how will it play out for Rollo, Gisela and Sansa?_

 _Don't forget to review!_


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